If I weren’t so comically obtuse
(even now, what is it I am asking for?)

     my hands on your soft blue
               pinstripe hips

                                     in the dim
                                       orange light

                  we’re strangers
                          which is what you
                     warned me about – the distance

   even in our perpetual closeness

             I’ve never experienced quicksand
                     but I know sinking better
           than most

                               falling into the ground

                            to come close to the core

                                      however lethal

---

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023). Recent poems are in ITERANT, Stirring, and The Indianapolis Review. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. (jamescroaljackson.com)