Love Talks and Slow Jams

I.
The girl dances, circling her hips
Her belly rising, falling.
The boy plucks, plays guitar
to her taut calves,
paper-skinned,
knees loose.

The girl is a crock pot
with dark stock, and thickening roux of the past.
Shredding meaty moral sinews.
She serves herself to him in a large blue bowl.
He eats her
Filled, dark
Full-bellied.

The girl feels light,
Released.

II.
She watches other boys
Feeling giddy and
Flirts.

The boy shrugs, kicking dirt.
Inside, his intestines are
Eels slithering through his rib cage.
His body hunches over
Wrenching,
Worried warts bud the walls
of his stomach
down to his groin
now knowing
understanding
its growth.

I feel weightless and free
The girl says.

I cannot stand, I cannot keep my knees
From kissing, the boy says:

This must be love.