this is not the time for this but
what can i do
i am sometimes powerless and
usually
not—

we play games—
scenes of debauchery—
you place upwards
and we crash against each other like waves
rumbling quick and messy
with spurts of pain and pleasure in the spaces we meet.

a word is sharp like metal
concepts are dulled and i can easily
but not without scars
run away from this.

i’ll explain away your stars
your scars
why we fought
why we stopped fighting
trace my finger to your date and attempt to give voice to unspoken expectations—
bartering my trust for your love.

give me the width of your shoulders
your hips
your knees
your feet
so that i can figure out a way to place myself with you without falling through the cracks.