It is not often I dream of you.
Dressed in copper and brick,
Growing green with vines,
Climbing your crumbling walls.

This castle you once kept in an
Easily forgotten part of my body.
A bastion against burial
Between shoulder blade and spine.

You who choose never to announce your
Presence when entering the room.
Simply sit in the corner, tilting your wine glass
Till I notice your ever increasing stare.

Most nights, I ignore you.
Ignore your black miniskirt and pearls,
Ignore your orange sundress
And turquoise necklace,

Ignore gladiator sandals,
And Barcelona bracelet,
First worn when we still
Had the simplicity of spring.

Some rare nights like this one
I grab you by your thumbs
And pull you under the table.
Relive our longing out of the sight

Of these new dinner guests,
Crawling awkwardly between their legs.

This is how
You have always worked.
Drawing ink from my body,
One pen:knife awakening at a time