Charlotte Covey

snapshot in blinks

sometimes, you go minutes without
blinking. i try and catch you,
if only to know you
are human. my body always remembers
your body.
it has been
so long. somewhere, your girlfriend
is wishing you home. when
i ask about her, you kiss me
quiet, and i let you. i am
trying to be a good person.
you
hush my lips with your drifting
fingers. i am afraid of being
alone.
the walls watch us,
and you press inside me. i keep thinking
of the way your lashes strain for ceiling,
refuse to close. the way we
are always looking for things
we shouldn’t.

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Charlotte Covey is from St. Mary's County, Maryland. She currently lives in St. Louis, and she earned her MFA in Poetry from the University of Missouri-St. Louis in Spring 2018. She has poetry published or forthcoming in journals such as The Normal School, Salamander Review, CALYX Journal, the minnesota review and Potomac Review, among others. In 2015, she was nominated for an AWP Intro Journal Award. She is managing editor for WomenArts Quarterly Journal.