Touch starved palms on a cursive chest Black socks on, the only thing leftTouch has a memory Touch has a memory Touch has a memorySun and the gods in the candle glass Pine scenting all the air that passes Between our lips I lean to kiss Your pomegranate fingertipsTouch has a memory Touch has a memory Touch has a memorySappho's choir inside my mouth Praiseful after years of drought By candlelight I release What's let go of meTouch has a memory Touch has a memory Touch has a memoryTouch has a memory Touch has a memory Touch has a memory