Demi Anter- “The Good One”

Fucking cold air
into your mouth,
an otherwise lackluster
sex life hits its high point
that night in the back of my
Kia Spectra.

Blue/red metal, ice
under my fingertips as
I wait outside, watching
for headlights up the
deserted hill, ten minutes drive
from the kitchen table
you ate at every morning
alongside brother, parents, dog.

You reposition yourself,
long and lanky bones
squiggled across
the beige double seat.
Slender fingers
beckon for me.

And I don’t remember
if I gave you head,
what it looked like,
or the coming —

but lodged deeply
somewhere cerebellum
is a breeze of shadow,
mountain air puckers
pale skin, a gust of wind;
I slip back inside.