You run hotter than most people:
ninety-nine degrees but you still need blankets.
I am too warm, holding you,
but I say nothing and do not stop.
To the left our lamp is dead;
to the right, through a window,
is a streetlamp
and some stars.
Lines of white light cover our bodies
and I do not know if it is the
artificial stare of some city bureaucrat
who does not care so much about the way it feels
as he does his statistics –
my persistence only in equations, as numbers –
or if it is space
which knows that we do not matter at all
and leaves us, unwatched,
not needing to speak.
Vincent Sergiacomi is a student of English at Arcadia University. His poetry has previously appeared in Quiddity, and is set to appear in Poetry Pacific. His influences include Pablo Neruda, Larry Eigner, and Louise Glück. When not writing, Vincent enjoys going on walks and listening to music.