carving an incisive
incision into the core of
my most potent vulnerabilities

someone's in the next room over
having *** while we
are weeping
what a way to mark the occasion
the day my fingers found a wound
you let someone else doctor
it's upsetting see
the bible in drawer next to us
the way our hands still
fit together
like the torn halves
of a love letter
the way you got
all dressed up like the rain
and how we couldn't tell
the difference in the shower
it was the longest hour and a half
spent crying
the hot water wouldn't give up
so why should we
right?
even though it was scalding
neither of us touched the ****
we knew this was supposed to hurt
your hair
a black mess against my shoulder
my fingers
oil in the vinegar of your hands
our bodies
the great divide
all the sobbing
a river runs through it
without the courage
to carry or **** us
so we step out
and drip dry
down to a mute breakfast
composed of quiet
and last nights liquor
as we came back in
there were people in our room
at first i thought them detectives
dissecting things
to see who had died here
i had forgotten this
was a hotel
and they were only
cleaning up after us
i wanted to stop them
plead
that the sheets were still perfect
that if they clean the bathroom
no one will know
what happened here
someone has to remember
"please
i know
these cigarette burns
by name
i will bury the faucet
let me take the tub
i don't care how
if i have to
i will drag it home by hand"

Let's make an effort to age this sadness for 16 years
Will it hold weight then?
Will it be a tangible thing that you can hold, and hug and touch?
Will it have a taste of metallic blood or simply smell like the musty wood of forgotten time?
Let's bottle it away
Give it time to mature
And maybe one day we can both sample the fruits of this labor

I take the shortest path imaginable to be among stars lining meticulously staked kiosks

beaming like the sun's gentle rays at dawn in autumn

mid-slumber, we float
skin colliding and causing ripples like pebbles in a stream

the noise he makes at 3 AM send a shock through my tattered and fragile skeleton

stopping short below my waist
where i start questioning my beauty because society hates an un-perfect anatomy
somehow that's your favorite place

early spring morning eyes that could sedate the wildest stallion

lips and teeth
so familiar

for minutes we've sat in silence with our limbs tangled

I've been waiting so long

the separate paths we crossed are conjoined at fingertips and hips

walk with me until the sun is barely peaking out

we're spilling out like whiskey on a hardwood floor

how are we still so full?