At the Desert Bar

For 60 minutes,
you let me love your

hourglass body.
Before you

seep out
from my arms.


Math cuddle

Because darling,
if I’m a decimal,

you are the nearest integer
I want to round off into.

Finding excuses

Just to talk to you
I ask if the stricken city

you live in
is running dry soon.

I’ve read in the papers,
I say. How serious is it.

Just to talk to you
I make a looming crisis

an excuse. I betray
the sacredness  of water.