Mutual Defenders
Adrian Slonaker
It doesn’t matter that you
don’t understand my language since my
speech is a whirlpool of stammers,
but my fat ring finger
taps the inside of your wrist,
telegraphing a resurgence of trust
crafted from kvass and vegan caviar and
Elvis Presley and the solitudes we slashed so that
my paisley duvet could shelter layers
of vulnerable limbs while
thunder throbs in our eardrums.
