I finished first again, so here is my poem:
night turns backwards
and your face is lit with dawn,
quiet closes your eyes like pockets
stuffed with nervous palms and
I can still smell you.
You smell like morning, sour
soaked in sweet.
the sun trips through the window
stumbles and spreads across your legs
I want to kiss your shadows
that’s where the flavor pools
the coolest water mellows in valleys
tucked in shade.
I want you.
there’s nothing more potent
than early morning thirst and my
throat cracks, sticky silence
but your lips are closed
your tongue holding on to its spit
for dear life.
stenciled in your body’s inverse
inhaling your sleep
I ask God to just this once pause time.