A loose wool-knit sweater had holes in the pattern,
through which her skin was visible both above and below
the dark sports-bra wore stretched across her *******.
I could see the thin straps draped over her collarbones,
and thought about the lines they leave in her skin.

Yoga pants squeezed her legs underneath of thigh-high socks,
and both were layered below tall leather boots with low heels.
An olive green fatigue jacket hung open around her and
was adorned with a colorful scarf that lay claim to her neck,
its tassels curled and bounced with each step she took
mirroring precisely the loose curls in her fair hair.

Finger-less gloves left her free to feel the texture of the
pages she turned one by one in a book pulled from the shelf.
She had sat down right in the aisle, planting herself in front of
the poetry section inside of a crowded Barnes and Nobles.
Sitting there with such an elegance, I lack the words for it,
completely unnoticed and free from the numerous
holiday shoppers that were carefully stepping over her,
books in their own arms, and heading for the cash registers.

i swear i  felt     y o u



deep


in                          my
chest      before i met
you, like all the time
i  thought   i     w a s
staggering on      for
him i        was really
justheadedtoyou, to
where my feet never
lose            their grip
and the  ends of  my
fingers  won't forget
what your  face feels
like    in   the earliest
hoursofthe morning.
you   h a v e   tied    a
string around        my
lungs    a n d    trailed
it all the   way  across
the ocean with     you,
looped your promises
every twenty miles or
so along the  way so i
have  no choice but to
follow you to find out
where they     end and
w h e r e    we    begin.

i am an expert at
unrequited love.
i like to eat it for
breakfast in the
early morning
light of my
kitchen with a
spoonful of sugar
to help it go down
easier.

it smells like
chicago and deep
breathsofyouthaticould
not get enough of,     l i k e
a thanksgiving spent playing
with your hair     while you took
a nap on your grandma's      couch,
like  exploring   your   mouth  on  top
of the parking garage on black friday
between  my two shifts at work, like
telling you goodbye  in my favorite
coffee shop while you drank your
black tea and made promises
promises   promises   that
even then i knew you
could never keep.

though i  k e e p    thinking i should
be    kinder, i should care more, i
should give more but h o w do i
do that when i give    from the
inside out, reach all the way
down to the      bottom   of my
stomach and    dig  out anything
anything anything     that might be
of use or want until   i   am    scraped
raw and uncontentingly           empty.
but if you want more i will   f i n d  it.
i will     stretch my arm further, i will
pull out every     inch   of whatever is
left in there if you need it that  badly.