Idaho
Idaho
by Joshua McDermott
was thinking about me biting
your thighs today, in a sun lit
room, undressing in the closet.
and how your body, if there
was ever any body, is the body
for my body, and your dark
eyed smile, animated summer,
let me sleep on your stomach,
green grass morning, let me sleep on
your stomach some, and then
we can drive past the mountains.
Diverting, disorienting, quite seductive come-in which may be as much about getting physical with Idaho as with a person. Either way, making it over barriers, “and then we can drive past the mountains.” I really like “and how your body, if there was ever any body, is the body for my body.”