portion of the artwork for Justin Hyde's poetry

saturday afternoon
Justin Hyde

to make love

in a three hundred thousand dollar house

then fall asleep

pretzeled in the embers

nothing on your mind
but how many thousand yards
you’re going to swim at the y
later tonight.

in this instant

your heart is limpid

guileless

bobbing freely
in the zenith
of a vectorless mind.

this can’t last.

it won’t last.

the blueprints forbid it.

her great grandmother’s
hundred year old wedding dress
from scandinavia
hangs in the corner

a white orchid
spans clear space
on her dresser

follow the blades
of the ceiling fan

slowly

they melt together

your hand
gliding

through a sheen of sweat

down her thigh.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 41 | Summer 2013