Fucking you(r day up) against that wall

 
I keep trying  
to focus on my journal,
and my meal,
and the ambiance of it all
 
but  
goddamn  
I want
to shove you against
the wall and  
bite your  
lower lip
when you  
exhale into me
 
my hand tremors
signing the check
as an image
of your inner thigh
against my soft cheek  
rips reason  
into cardboard confetti
 
I hide behind oversized
sunglasses and  
figure I’ll shoot some
mixed messages at you  
and die inside when you  
don’t have a descrambler
 
Because that makes  
fucking sense.
 
But I’m dangerous now.
 
Displacement lurks
around ever lust-filled  
corner of my mind,
hungry to use your body
to feel better
or not feel anything
 
and I have to feel it
this time.
 
I sit in my car
peeling the teal polish
off my nails,
pissed that I didn’t get  
my unfinished meal
to go
pissed that there’s no
wall for me to  
fuck up your day  
against
 
pissed that I want to
lick the hollow at the
base of your throat
 
but fuck,
I’m hiding from myself
in the crowd of a
beautiful city
 
which isn’t  
in the right place
to tell you that
I stare at your ass
and think
filthy  
thoughts
 
the radio sounds
like potential tonight
so I queue up an audiobook
about assassins who  
fuck like animals  
and try to think
pure thoughts
 
and fail