too much of love is needing a cigarette
too much of love is wringing your hands
not enough of it is you calling me
without my asking

we are in a bed that belongs to neither of us,
and we do not feel like us.
i am wrapped around you, you are suffocating.
when you kiss me, i cannot feel your panic.
i see it on your face, i pull you back in.

i put on my best show. i say all the words right.
i say love so many times it doesn’t sound real.
you kiss me the same way, but
your hands feel smaller than before.

you say love but you mean pity, you mean longing
in a heart that does not know it well.
you mean lust for a woman who cries often
and kisses softly, sweetly, like your mother.