i have lived in this
windswept place too long.
rain thrums on
corrugated acoustics,
dust stirs, hoping
that one day you will
drift back and
lay rest at my side.

i’d stroke your cheek
kiss your lips,
lie you down,
bite your chin,
stroke your thigh
out and in,

I’d comb my fingers
through your hair
all the way down
to the small
of your back.

and let not
any of it
not one moment
end... in ...dust