Almost Yours 

visions long past, guided
by an old cello’s somber
purr, a song not heard
since your bare
knee touched hers,
bone to bone, protruding,
with only paper skin
for barriers

you did not know then
that she wanted
to brush her sun-
kissed
freckled hands against
your narrow
schoolgirl limbs

you did not know then
that you wanted
to kiss her
temple, lean
your cheek to hers
& draw closer with each
electric caress—

you forgot you dreamed
of snow chandeliers
over fields, learning
the pitches of her
laughter & committing
their songs to memory

By Audrey T. Carroll

Biography:

Audrey T. Carroll is a Queens, NYC native whose obsessions include kittens, coffee, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the Rooster Teeth community. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Fiction International, The Fem, Feminine Inquiry, the A3 Review, and others. Her poetry collection, Queen of Pentacles, is available from Choose the Sword Press. She can be found at http://audreytcarrollwrites.weebly.com and @AudreyTCarroll on Twitter.