Late nights in my apartment,
we were brand new.
You'd come snuggle in that
unbearably skinny
twin XL after your intramurals.
Squished up against the cool wall,
I lied on top of you
like I'd never loved anyone before
like
no one would
ever get that close.
The half haze bliss
of sleep and wake all ran together and
overcame me
until seamlessly, I woke in your arms.
The still swell of
your breath,
the dry salt smell of
our skin
eased me to life.
Perfect dreams melting tides
into perfect days.
And the nights you couldn't stay,
How we kissed for hours in a
dark kitchen, awestruck, lucky
with wobbly knees.
You had to hold me up
when I melted,
had to float home afterward when your feet
couldn't find solid ground.
You faithfully came to me in dreams
where I tried to reconcile
perfect love,
I groped around in the dark
for some explanation of it, unprecedented.
Threw out faith with
arms wide open
in your enamored promises.
Like your flowers, though,
they couldn't help it, they
faded to winter too
soon,
leaving ghosts in my kitchen
and mattresses a mile wide.
There are days still,
I wake, hungry and alive,
from dreams of
perfect love
and almost understand you.