At all those places you thought
you were once so familiar with,
the places you were so used to being comfortable at,
what exactly does that place remind you of?

The bad memories,
or, the good ones?

The pieces of memories that you thought you would've long since thrown away.
No, it's still there, etched in my memory.

lately i've been thinking about
how you walk with your shoulders back
at the same time
being so ridiculously awkward.

it's really cute.

You call me darling, but:
Darling,  
do not call me by that name,
I could not bear it if I tried.
That word is a pyre, and I—
I do not know how to burn
well enough.

Until I can swallow your absence whole
and live,
I will not lay a hand on you:
You who call me out of my trembling cloak
Of skin and muscle and bones,
Into the lissome folds of that tender night
To meet you.

Until I can meet your gaze without encountering some
small death,
I will not try to hold you:
weightless one,
Who I could never quite grasp anyway.

Until I can kiss your lips and remember
Where you end and I begin
I will not get lost in you:
Constellation of nerves and veins and sinews,
Strewn across the stars.


I have tried to love,
weightlessly,
But my heart is still heavy, my dear.

And I have tried to love you,
desperately,
Without the heaviness of desire
or the desperation of need,
But I have lost all substance on the pyre
Of self-denial, for indemnity.