Poem: 3-point Night

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.

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