a top row of teeth slide out, then slide back out of sight.
slow wide circles, quickening sprints.
the perfect slot will reveal itself;
it just takes patience, gripping, waiting.
An excerpt from a poem that appears in Barrelhouse‘s POP Love! series. They’ve collected so many funny, dreamy, outrageous takes on romance this month; I’m so glad I could contribute my take on the erotics of professional hockey. Read the piece in full here.