I wanted to see him taken
in loving arms
told it was forgiven

I wanted to kiss him
along the neck and jaw
promise him that God made us
in his image, and he is selfish

but somewhere in his inscrutiable heartbeat
the hunger can wither
like bluebells plucked from winter’s soil

I wanted to promise
we are penitent
and it counts for something
and yet the ache lingers

are your teardrops as wet
as I imagined they’d be?
and yet oh how water expires