You close your mouth and it's
the closing of a door, or the lid
of a coffin, so that no words will
ever pass between us again.

Your tongue won't be trapped
in between my biting teeth.

Tell me, how do things die?
Is it because they are left
untended, and to their own
hapless devices? Were we
such irresponsible lovers?
Did we never think of
a way to see it through?

I won't stop wanting you.
You'll be in me until you're
an abstract, an idea not
attached to a person, until
even your face is gone
and all I have is the poems
to remind me why I still care.

I'll dream your mouth, and
it will open, say "I love you,"
before I slide my waiting
tongue into its home.

01/17/2004

Author's Note: This one goes out to Jonathan Campbell, may my love for him, if not ever completely dead, at least rest in peace.

Posted on 01/17/2004
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Blair