When I say that I didn't get much sleep last night,
I mean that I spent seven hours in my bed
Thinking about the way that the morning light
might play off of your skin
And the way that you would shift and snuffle
into the mattress at my first nudge
And my light breath would be against the nape
of your neck,
Breathing in your contentedness
and how happy the sun is
To be warming your shoulders up as you wake.

So no, I didn't get much sleep last night.


  *"I think I'm falling asleep
   but then all that it means is
   I'll always be dreaming of
   you."

change from always saying no
to yourself
creative confidence
threat
and inspiration
feel the freedom to fail
and the independence
of saying yes

i.

You say 
I look like a twig

as if I should be ashamed

to be compared to a strong tree.



ii.

You hold my gelatin arm,

letting it hang, 
laughing
that I am all skin and bones,

but aren't you, too?



iii.

You think I should come
with a caution label
explaining how to properly hold something

as breakable and fragile as glass. 



iv.

You slink your arm around my waist,
dancing your fingertips over my protruding hip bones,

confessing it feels like it doesn't belong.

Why isn't it beautiful
a part of my vessel isn't
 hidden?



v.

You are aghast when my ribcage

slightly shows, stretching my masked skin.

Why are you horrified
to see the very structure

protecting the ***** I love you with?



vi.

Twice the portions,
 twice
the helping.
 Will I always have to prove
I am anything, but 
empty?



vii.

Last time I checked,

you were a skeleton, too.

Tea and cup, ready,
Birds in garden weaving dream,
Kettle wakes, calling.

If you come as softly
As the wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees.

If you come as lightly
As threading dew
I will take you gladly
Nor ask more of you.

You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
Only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.

And if you come I will be silent
Nor speak harsh words to you.
I will not ask you why now.
Or how, or what you do.

We shall sit here, softly
Beneath two different years
And the rich between us
Shall drink our tears.