Like wrong animals,
that move half-step,
I tap-tapped against the earth,
tap-tapped against the girl.
When I kissed her and ran away,
her brother eventually caught up with me,
placed his gun on top of me,
and said, ‘say your pretty words again you pretty man’.
Afterwards, bearded men came and washed me,
wrapped me in their own bedsheets,
placed me in the back of a pickup truck,
drove down the narrow road between our fields.
Face up watching as the sun meets the trees,
I know this place,
I know this smell,
Alexandria! – where the sea meet earth,
I imagine her now next to me,
the tap-tap of her fingers against my chest
kissing my wounds despite the wounds I inflict.