the soft drowsy heat of your exhale below my eye & the cold condensation patch that lingers as you spiral away into sleep comes heavy and warm like garbage bags stuffed with freshly brewed coffee grinds lolling over the plasticity of the pads of your fingers upon my throat & the aroma of raspberry tea bags slipping into warm bath water color slowly seeping out / tinting the water & pinking elbows & kneecaps // i am hugging the thin memory of you to my chest & squeezing it into an hourglass shape so hard & the way you left here nags like a mosquito bite on a knuckle & the cool pillow where your head used to rest begs for it back & no longer smells like coconuts & now when i bathe the water is clear and there are no candles only crows in the window singing sweetly & nobody beleives that they just. won't. caw. // i saw your thighs & i saw your eyes & i can't decide which i miss more // i am a goose out-of-formation my left wing is broken & i can only circle-circle-circle around my own body mass & wish that you were here to splint my hollow bones

& o
how hollow
how hollow i am & how can i holler for darkness to come // feathers flying & fluttering away from me i have kept nothing in this i am skittering around like dead leaves in a whirlwind // i bring you carnations // the cheapest flower // it's the thought that counts & count me in for this ride i'm on your side // press fast forward now & the days can slither into one another like trained greyhounds the ground is dirty under my flip-flops & my head is warm and heavy and plastic i am kicking paper cups just to fill the silence where you used to talk i understand the risk of this buisness // i am an earthworm & you are a rainy sidewalk & those clouds don't seem to be moving very fast

here
this is my heart
but i'm willing to share
cut it in two
one half for
each
of us
& where did you get off
leaving with both
that's not fair
come home
come home. . .

08/26/2003

Posted on 08/26/2003
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