His hand dropping counterclockwise behind her back
And just like that, the stretching, twisting
The sounds we have invented to mean skin pulling along the line of a pin
Bunching somewhere behind the eyes, between two steps, left right, here/there
Doors, windows, floors, dogs: all the anatomical alignments (or movements, or expressions, for when they are still we are blind) of this thing that, if only it could be transversed in one swift, sloping movement
A body meant to be crossed by an invitation already accepted
But the invitation not more empty than the space once possessed by two
No loss of meaning; just a few invented, sightless sounds to pull the skin along the line
Creatures of the above variety yet to be considered.
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