by Cyndie Randall

Look down. See me on
the subway platform. Say
hello. Pick me up, undress me,
put me in your mouth. I taste
good and it's surprising, like
peaches and summer in your childhood
swing. Tuck me between lip
and gum. Say hold on,
we're going for a ride. Feel
young again. Climb aboard
the electric flash. Pucker your face
and suck more me out of me.
Bob your head and whistle. Whisper
I'm glad I found you.
Tell me I'll always be
with you. Swallow. Miss me.
Tongue the raw of your cheek.



____

Cyndie Randall’s poems appear or are forthcoming in Frontier Poetry, DIAGRAM, Crab Creek Review, Longleaf Review, Aquifer: The Florida Review Online, Pithead Chapel, The Pinch, and others. She works as a therapist in a small town near Lake Michigan and is also a poetry contributing editor at Barren Magazine. Find her on Twitter @CyndieRandall or at cyndierandall.com.