Addicted
©2008 by Jennifer Honeycutt. May not be reproduced without permission.
We never talk about the way music latches
into your skin and burrows
through the layers, munching on melatonin,
eating into your epidermis.
The notes make tracks up your arm
and you become an addict—
must have music to feed your habit.
Your headphones are implanted
in your ears. Mid-song, I tap you
on the shoulder—you finish savoring a note,
holding your breath and swirling your tongue
so you can taste the note completely.
When you look up, your eyes are misshapen pearls,
watching an allemande only you can see.
