Hello David Poem by Ballerina With Fins

Hello David. You used to read my poems
and say they were terrible; terrible
words and terrible everything, and I
would just laugh, and laugh.
Laughing.

and you
used to read into my skin, like
a poetry book, entracing words of
belonging on my flesh. It tingles,

like an old flame burning, with
the knowing of love. Like ants
on my body. I want to swat them, hard,
but they are too much like
memories, pitiful and alive,
nostalgic.