AFTER YOU CAME BACK FROM CHURCH SATURDAY—, by Robert Beveridge

I press the shirt you borrowed
to my face, inhale
your scent—sweet
like powder, a sweat
tang that underlies.
The memories of the taste
of your body after sex, when
the slip of my tongue
over one nipple brings
acerbic salt to my throat
I sweat again to taste you


Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Mojave Heart Review, Adelaide, and Eternal Haunted Summer, among others.

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