Without giving me any warning,
You engraved yourself into my flesh;
Like a flower wrapping its vines around my torso.
I would pluck at your petals and
Tear at your roots
But you would not leave me.

You beautiful,
Beautiful
Woman you --
I'm in awe of you,
You lovely woman

I still find traces of you;
In my popcorn ceiling I see the outline of your torso,
Hollow.
You echoed when you would say my name
The lining of your lungs were padded with sticky notes,
Reminders of doctors appointments and birthday parties.
You would forget the simple things,
Not because you wanted to make room for the important ones
Like storing old photos in boxes,
Tucking them away on shelves to collect dust,
But because to you, simplicity wasn't worth a photo album.
The corners were tucked and folded,
Bent into paper swans.
And then thrown away in trash cans,
Recycled,
Into something more complex,
Like black matter and fairy dust.
I still find traces of you;
On doorknobs and coffee mugs,
And hollow things.

You breathe in oxygen and exhale sighs,
That are sweet like honey.
Your back arches like a crescent moon,
And darling,
You remind me of the stars.

I have gnawed your name onto the inside of my cheek
Like carving love notes on willow trees
And I have painted your portrait on the back of my eyelids
Romanticizing the outline of your jaw
Like an artist would his brush
And my skin remembers every brief moment when
Your hand and would brush against mine
Like the leaves on the willow tree
With your name
Carved into
Its bark

The Eskimos know,
The land like,
The back of,
Their hand;

Home is white and,
Glistening.
Home, it is cold,
It is harsh

"It is beautiful", they say.

Home is beautiful.

Your hands are cold,
But they are able to make
Even the smallest touch
Onto skin
Spark into flames