After saying I want you inside of me,
you became everything – miles and music and breaths since we last
touched. It wasn’t that you possessed me in any way,
rather the other meanings left
however they could. I have had grocery store coordinates
falling from my eyes and removed gingerbread paths from my thigh
because everything is how far you are from me right now.
It isn’t that the earth belongs to you, rather
the earth no longer belongs to me. You fill me more than I fill
my bathtub and I love you
in that way no one understands, which is why I asked if you thought
our names sounded beautiful together: I want them
to mix, like every grave in a cemetery
like they are inside each other and sift everything/everyone else out.