playing ultimate frisbee with this girl I know

The taste of frisbee fills my mouth
until all I can dream is surfing the wind
slicing back to earth at an obtuse angle
and crying for the feel of fingertips

I whistle at her, for the sake of long hair
and the well-wishes of forbidden curves
until the canine teeth rip me from my flight through heaven
to toss me on the ground smeared in slobber

A plastic smile accentuates my filthy hell
here on the grassy flat earth where real people run
she says nothing
then throws me away again.