I will find you when you come to me
Like in tales of men on white horses
Hidden in chain mail, wrapped in my ghosts
I lounge by secret still pools, brushing green grass with my hands
Feeling sensuous in my own skin
Feeling drafts lift my hair as I wrap myself over my knees
I will find you when you find me
Like in movies with lonely people
Hidden behind microwaved dinners, drowned in glasses of wine
I stir coffee cups languidly, tracing the round rims with my fingers
Feeling ground bean slickness on my skin
Feeling the apartment empty around me.