You have a smell
That I try to put myself inside.
Wear it like I wear your t-shirts
When I've given up on fumbling for my own
in the darkness.
I like that in bed I can see your face
illuminated by a scurvy-ridden moon.
I have to bite my lips
and yours
to keep prenatal words in, sometimes.
I wonder how big a part of my life
you'll have been
once you're no longer a part of it.
Maybe I love you, or maybe
you just smell safe.