we didn’t need music
just the hum of the fridge
and the dog barking two floors down.
the sheets were half off the bed,
her hair in knots,
my hands shaking
like I’d lived a hundred lives
and never touched something so real.

Serena—
she looked at me like she already knew
where the cracks were
and kissed me there first.
no ceremony,
just heat and breath
and two ******-up hearts
trying to beat in time.

she moaned like it mattered,
like the world might stop spinning
if we didn’t keep going.
I bit her lip, she scratched my back,
we left bruises that felt like
truth.

afterward,
she lit a cigarette
with a hand still trembling
and said,
"we’re not broken,
just bruised in the right places."
and I believed her.

I sit on the white bench under the willow tree near the funeral home.
I miss the haunted house, light blue like my childhood home used
to be, and I think, can I visit? and where shall I stay?
The picket fence was broken, you mended it; someday I will return
only to bend it again. Thinking of you all the while.
Thinking of you at Hy-Vee stealing someone else’s groceries
from their cart because I told you I liked to rebel,
and you listened, and we both understood
why we wanted to take the apples we wouldn’t eat.
Ants spilling from the ripe fruit as we bit into it,
like dawn, like perpendicular lifelines.
And all this is imaginary, like the blank playing card
you found on the ground in front of a different person’s house;
but I think about it like it’s true.
I’m at a funeral home, after all. And I swear,
I must have conjured you out of the dark. The stars splintered, the
moon split open; fingertips sinking
steadily into lunar grooves, lattices, plaits of long black hair.
I pulled you from the silver dust— breath to bone. And I love you,
but I miss you all the same, for we were made from the same stardust;
we passed each other before we slipped out of collective conscious into the human race.
And the sky ends six times before I get up from the bench. And I knock
six times on the front door before passing through it.
Wrapped in a black cloak. Accustomed to the taste
of ice as it is handed to me in small plastic cups,
brought to me as I lay in a hospital bed; everything pale, sallow,
the nurses gazing absently with pity on their faces. And I chew my ice.
And I will come back to the funeral home, to the haunted house, to you.
I will come back.

I want a love that lifts, not weighs,
that lights my soul, not dims my days.
A love that walks, that dares, that tries,
not one that waits with downcast eyes.

I want to feel a burning spark,
not just a whisper in the dark,
a steady hand, a voice so clear,
a man who knows, who draws me near.

I want a presence bold and true,
a heart that beats with mine in view.
No chasing shadows, no silent plea,
but footsteps strong that walk with me.

I want a fire, fierce yet slow,
not flames that fade or cease to glow.
A love that lasts, that won’t demand
the life I hold in open hand.

I want desire, not just a thrill,
but something deep that grows at will.
A passion free, yet firm in space,
not fleeting highs, but strong embrace.

A man whose strength is warm, not cold,
whose love is sure, whose hands will hold.
Who stands beside me, not behind,
with fearless heart and steadfast mind.

I want to move, unchained, unbound,
no weight to pull me to the ground.
No debts to pay, no roles to fill,
no love that drains my heart’s own will.

I want a life where joy runs free,
where voices dance in harmony.
Where love is given, strong and pure,
not earned, not fought for, but secure.

And so I stand, my heart made new,
no love half-lived, no path undue.
No less than this, no dreams denied,
I trust the path, let life decide.

I study your every feature
So that I can embalm it in my memory

I do up your buttons as you ask
But then undo them again
So that you'll ask me all over

I kiss you like its my last breath
As I consume every ounce of you
Against my mouth

I carress your skin
Feeling every bump
Every curve
Every flaw
In hopes I don't forget you
Within my soul

I touch your face
As I drink in how your skin feels
So that maybe I can feel it
Within mine

I give you every left over ounce
Of my emotional availability
So that you can remember me fondly

I give you every left over ounce
Of my love and affection
So that you can remember me
The way that you loved me

I know this is it
I know you'll be gone
So in our last moments
Let me embalm every inch of you
And engrain it into me
Before I'm gone

I reach up with fingertips
And gently touch your lips.
You, hovering above,
I beneath.

A myth I choose to kiss
As your tears drop
Into the palm of my hand.

And I gave myself to you
As our window on this time
Closed like a precious capsule.

Your heart opened wide,
Your gentle concern
Enveloped my heart forever.