i remember when we went to see
this movie.
And you tried to convey the immensity of your
love for me, a young bride,
in your robust lovemaking,
out of your panting mouth.

your boy-fingers reached inside me
trying to clutch that thing
so unaware i had already presented
the remains of flesh you wanted, before
you, only two years before.

and i let you fill me,
bruising my inner thighs with
your needs, becoming venus as
a co-dependant, and kissing the
glow of your brow.

even then i waited,
for water and wine
to fall from your eyes,
and the opening of the bruised
flesh in your ribcage,
to sooth it with angel-fingers.

we longed for one blanket,
and four feet, twenty toes
and sticky, warm flesh,
instead of cold sheets,
cold pillows, alanis's stupid
uninviting vibrating
through my sleeping braincells.

i still miss hot breathing,
tickling napes,
arms around your baby,
tears dripping warm salt
into my eardrum,
a lost connection again.

sure beats the hell out of
sleeping under the same starless
sky, wishing for the weather to be here
and my thoughts to be beautiful.

instead I scratch broken hearts into
the backs of my eyelids in the moons passing,
she winks in silver death,
that rotund mother of ice.

makes sense to pretend you didn't
see me a long time ago,
and didn't try to convince me just once
that I belonged to you.

you, spent and fevered, turn
off of me, and bury your face
into our mismatched pillows,
disappointed by your own
dissatisfaction.

01/02/2008

Author's Note: Something from 2003.

Posted on 01/03/2008
Copyright © 2025 Maria Kintner