last night, for what may have been the first time in what felt like centuries of me loving you,
i felt, in the base of my brain, barely perceptible but there nonetheless,
doubt.

it's presence alone would not have been as alarming if it had not been for you.
doubt, fear, rage have no place in the home we may never build
but love to dream about when we feel the most alone.

and yet there it was now.
and i sat there feeling doubt slowly spreading like cancer along my brainstem, and i wondered
how long it had been there but dormant.
how long it had been there waiting for the correct catalyst.

i wondered if i still knew every layer of you.
i wondered if i still had you memorized or if all i have learned is a lie.

would you ever lie to me again?
how would i know if you had?
why am i even asking myself these things?

in my mind's eye i crawled into your mouth,
searching inside of you for any trace of deception,
forcing myself to look,
and hating myself for looking.

when i awoke this morning, my hands were empty, and i do not know whether that was good news.
frankly, i am afraid to ask.