Soothe me

Hand on your barrel chest
my words circle around you
not knowing quite where to land
in acrid air.

my cracked heels
your pistol wit
and sand scruff.

quick to the trigger
let's meet at a fixed point.

moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.
tell me the good one.

the stock gun and lotion metaphor.
you find in every love poem.

mmmmmmmmm.