words by dominic riccitello

i lick your chin
to feel the stubble
of your ache on my heart
where i knew we were born
in a moment 
on a street
with hands twined
through fingers i couldn’t grip
and i touch your lips
to feel a pulse of mine
atop yours
a stone cold feeling
of dark
chasing a spine
of a man who was never there
and always so far
i venture through valleys
to feign in the pain
of your eyes in a dim lit kitchen
feeling for what was
and at twenty-seven you hadn’t
yet wine spills and oasis still exist
our legs move forward with time racing
your eyes bend with time
wounds tend to heal in rotation
we’re turning tables
twisting in pretentious movements
i ache your name
to feel your pain
i felt your life at the tip of your fingers
a lost electricity 
moving through veins to make vain
we still exist in a world which is far from here
in holograms i twirl in your kitchen at night
it’s all parallel like our lives in this time
in this life