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.