your hissing  tongue
pierces once again
vile words, berating my worth
only I have learned (at last)
to disentangle my heart
from your snare's belittlement
staring into the unwholesome sky
with muted lips
awaiting tomorrow's painted beauty

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

you toy with me
distant friend
fingers through my hair
whispers as you dart about
our secret game will remain
our secret
but I must know if you are child or adult
woman or man
past lover in this or an earlier life
reveal to me the answer my spirit
so that you may walk in my dreams
and open the door to both worlds

How do I fix me?

her eyes could tear holes into steel
so tell me why
when i catch hers with mine
do they soften?