Tinder Takes a Walk

John Davis

Even the moss between sidewalk cracks longs for his body. Because he is ruggedly handsome and home to fantasies, women swoon, swipe-right, wait for the night. They want nothing tender about their Tinder, want to warm their blood in his blood, pull his skin around them like a body suit. He is so Tinder, even fire adores him, wants to hookup. His smile tinders the beauty of women. He is sure of it. He cures lust because he is lust, is Tinder, causes fender benders when women pass him. No need for love, no hinder when Tinder scuffs the cinder of street corners and forms a perfect O with his lips. He is so so swipe-right, no need to create a tinder farm. He is the farm, is the Tinder, produces more crops than crops can bear.

John Davis is the author of Gigs and The Reservist. His work has appeared in DMQ Review, Iron Horse Literary Review and Terrain.org. He lives on an island in the Salish Sea and performs in several bands.