One Call
one call was all it took
to run through the wind
crash into your chest –
share our nexus of lips
press-in clavicled crook
one call to toss threats
of punishment – a list-ing
willow tangled in summer
wind – my fifteen-year-old
face flush with the tender
new born ache of wanting –
that swear to never forget
left in a blazing chamber of
my young heart even now -
ready to run
again –
