in theory
warmth on a warm day
shouldn't be what i want

but locked into you
holding on for dear life
while my toes barely
touch the floor
sweat is sweet

i hold the heat
my hands damp
my eyes wide for lack of light

if you are summer
melt the ice that lingers on my riverbed
guide the snowmelt down between my banks
i don't want to be cold anymore

i look for you in my arms
raised lines where i marked time's passage in shame
only bumps now
only scars
i look for you there and find no one
nothing

i look for you in the things you left in my room
a necklace
a pin
hard cold things that collect dust but not your scent
yours but forgotten

i look for you down the street
a parking lot
a place
empty now but for ash and debris

i lay here

my bed empty where it once held you
my heart empty where it once held you
my smile empty where it once held you

when i spoke
to you on
the phone today

i quaked when
i thought of
what you'd say

if i told
you i'd been
thinking this way



i wonder what
you would ever
think of me

if i had
read you a
poem i'd written (or three)

and let you
hear of the
creature we'd be



we would break
of your sweat
with many-toothed jaws

we would drip
of my blood
with skin-piercing claws

we would be
the perfect monster
flawless in flaws

i remember the very first time
you told me you loved me
it was too warm a night
and i could smell your sweat
under the scent of your clothes
a perfume or even a cologne

i didn't expect those three words
i just didn't see them form
i wanted to watch your mouth
but i was in your arms
and didn't feel your heart beating
empty words or ones with meaning

it's the split second before your ears register the sound of the smoke alarm
the splash in your heart when a car passes too close to you
the bracing in your body
the preparation for punishment
the silence before the scream
the tensing of everything inside you for however long it takes
hours
days
weeks
waiting, dreading, the unknown
the Bad Thing

dread reaches both hands into my throat
to take the air from my very lungs
my breath comes shorter and shorter and i fear for my life
i lay awake, wondering when my death will arrive
how soon
how soon
how soon

anxiety reaches around the corners of my heart with spiderlike hands and pulls on the ends of my hair with unfeeling fingers
follows me just out of my line of sight but close enough for me to feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up
i turn but there's no one there
or is there?

anxiety reaches around the corners of my heart with spiderlike hands and raises its hackles like i'm someone it doesn't know
follows me far enough away that i sometimes forget it's there
but close enough for me to remember where it was
i turn but there's no one there
or is there?

anxiety reaches around the corners of my heart with spiderlike hands and pats my arm a little too hard like a drunk stranger
follows me like i'm its only way home and if it loses me it will be lost in an unfamiliar city at night
i turn but there's no one there
or is there?