Current :: Cynthia Polutanovich

Leftover Cravings

After "After Love" by Maxine Kumin

Afterwards, a hollow stomach
like the day after Christmas

Our libidos, for instance
slip on wool socks and cross their legs

Our lips turn solemn and dry
with a craving finally unwrapped and forgotten

I whistle the theme from Star Wars
It doesn't seem absurd

Your sweaty face is on my chest
Tea has grown cold at the bedside

Nothing has changed except
there was a moment when

our rhythm swelled and scattered and
the sky flew down to see what we were doing

I already miss the labor of our breathing