sensitive dependence
erik e. humbert
She will go and take her sweet soft worked hand
across my face
just slowly, and in three wipes
it is gone onto her fingers
and come back, just a little
across my lips, salty
a forgiven mistake,
and it will wind up on a kleenex
pulled from her purse
and put, red, in her pocket
as another mark of my Don Quixote
need to defend her.
