On Taking Up Space,

the ripples of the skin of my gentle lover-

Diligently recorded

In smudging black ink

Banks
And the stale odor of Marlboro Golds
Remind you of a slower time
When you broke into abandoned barns and sang sermons to the rooftops
Unaware of who might listen

You've gone home now,

Departed on your bike in your baseball cap

And I can still feel
The echo of you on my skin

Blank skin begging to be touched says,

"kissing you is like eating stardust, and,

I'll crawl to the corners of your earth if you let me.

In the middle of things, while you are away,

please save me an honest smile?"

You said to keep my eyes on you,
but I was busy memorizing
the way your cadence rose and fell
and how each syllable
altered the contours of your face;
and you revived everything around you...

I'm not a person for promises,
or seeds sown out of spite, but there is something so fascinating about you-

how you glide and breathe
so effortlessly by me

and I think that maybe, you could be my sun
if circumstances
and solar systems
allow

I haven't cried in weeks.

I'm not sure if I remember how.

The desire swells at the back of my throat,
the muscles constrict and burn, but when the blade is just inches
from plunging through my neck, I stop

and pour another glass of wine