Cure me like poison
I never knew I needed:
Apothecary.

My first two hours
were spent scowling at the day.
Unconditional...

Run through the rubble,
Float on your cigarette breath.
Keep me; I am home.

The gentle lines of the coarsest neck
Where the vitals fall in line,
Where breath is held so restlessly,
The first sip of chilly wine.

The shaky fingertips that graze,
Calloused, but seeking gospel
Leaving me covered in the words of
Your author and your novel.

Knobby knees that knock when
Worry scurries through your blood.
That hallow place behind
Where no one thinks to touch.

The portion of your foot that feels
The extremity of the ground.
How fast you're going will always tell
How long you stick around.

(Our souls are where we find them.)

One, two, three.
I am stopping here,
But only to catch my breath.
Tear, rip, peel.
This is my transition

From getting
To giving. I
Am reflective of what you
Bequeath to me.
You are my Sirius.

Conversations with myself
Remnants of

Fleeting words
Leaving me pummeled
In their tracks.