you found my feet with yours at the edge of the bed and
your mother walked in to find me holding her son like a woman holds her lover
and as I write this with my right hand you're snoring in your sleep with my left hand engulfed in your fist
you buried your whispers in my ear like the waves churning in the sea from a conch shell
you picked up pieces of me i didn't know were broken and replaced the cuts on my wrists with ones on my feet from walking railroad tracks without shoes on.