do you know
i fall asleep
with my hands
touching
together

but I notice the difference
as yours Are tougher
bigger
rougher
but i've never had the pleasure

of falling asleep with
your hands
though ive slept
cocooned
in your scent

do you know
i've never been very good
at confessions

i confess
i could draw
freehand
the shape of your lips
from Memory

(i could show you
      where they curve
       and bend
       and they look like
       the perfect destinatIon
       for my life to end
  killing myself,
        to die upon a kiss
       
        to die upon 
        your kiss
        i'm killing myself
       by even thinking this)

i confess
i could shade
the exact ways
your hair falls
dowN
by your face

(i could explain
    the smelL of your hair
    after a long day at work
    it feels thicker
    as it resists against
my hands
      
     you dO that too
     do you know)

i confess
i could describe
the wonders
in
your eyes
of
your eyes
so accurately
they would be seen
by the blind

(i'd rather not tell you
       how i feel
       when you catch me
staring
       but i just
                       can't
         help myself
i neVer want to miss
       a single blink
a wink
       no time to think)

i confess
words,
the words,
keEp
running
sprinting
dancing
prancing
in my mind
but i cannot find
an acceptable order
to confess them in



love in you i am with



one two three four five six


and, oh father,
there is no need to confess
for We have not sinned

he would not look
upon me
if i was the last to exIst
he merely
glances over to me
now and then

and, oh father,
you know
how i desire
These
tormenting
words
to go

he could barely tell you
the colour of my Hair
i could tell you
the colour of his
when he was five

milky way kid

do You know
me
am i
just a girl
who falls asleep
alone
in the backseat
Of the car

that old red polo
is not so appealing
anymore

and, love,
i confess
or
these words will die
on the lips
yoU leave
unkissed

i am in...

*i cant

all in footprints i
throw onto the side
walk i mesh with
patterns laid out
like so many
fractions of leaves
caught in an under
tow, when
autumn emerges once more and
streams down the hall, i
can't remember
why
i ever thought at all
that these splinters
inside of me
would just dissolve;
or how
i ever got so
down and out.

little by little, fractures
develop. little by little, i'm
breaking down.
and,
for an eye's blink duration,
i finally understand,
what has come to be, the
sapling of reason i might be able to breathe
a little longer or
curl away, until
the lights in your eyes
become slowly emptying stars,
gracing some horizon, once again,
like
before i found i'd ever fall for you,
and the split-second it took to change that.

'cause, now,
i can't stay asleep,
i can't sleep, can't
find sleep, amongst these tides,
i can't sleep anywhere,
can't
          do this
anymore, {for the thirty-seventh time, I whisper.}

the moment dissolves.
awake, eyes closing.
the splinters don't budge.

still awake,
twisting nothing.

at once, a fragment of time,
feigning invisibility, or ignorance, or
questioning:
what was lost? surely i.
the list repeats;
three kilometers-
a thousand or more repetitions,
a mountain-
just one,
cold, partially fogbound.
open covers, reveries composed of wolves' teeth.
huh, some olympia this makes.

i slept and your words were life.

you smiled, silent,
one-half of a crescent moon's portrait,
the sky was soft, turning
away you set light
awash on the tracks of swells
i cast a small boat across
the depths-
there are too many nothings, here. i'll drown, empty.
lithe, you
move a hair's width, you
drop an anchor into the world.

and i, warm,
wonder, once more,
how the seconds must trail
shadows across your skin,
in the rain.