i wonder, naked and exposed,
wrapped in yesterday's cologne,
how many times must you leave
before it is an arrival. do we not
grow so accustomed
to the tread of retreating steps
it transforms into a grown lullaby?
i should sleep peacefully,
not claw for you under the moon
rabid with memories that dance
and bleed in my head so fiercely
at times it is all i see.
you have been all i have seen
you have never seen me.
i have wondered how the lightest touch
leaves the darkest bruise
the smallest promise,
the harshest cut.