slips in like hot summer
curving through swerves of defenses
cultivated in times of snow, of solidarity,
of certainty certainly now found
missing.
squeeze through pipes of dreams
and memories.
I'll always remember your fingertips
pulling my organs apart.
feeling it piece by piece, row by row
i am missing more and more of
skin, of summer, of snow i'll no longer know to recognize
creases become center pieces.
shadows become lamps.
i am left here to ask for more cigarettes,
spiraling through like smoke on water
sitting, asking,
"can I enter here?"
before disregarding any walls.
all we ask is for walls
to keep summer still.