Your words
Flow over
Gravel,
Tumbling
With purpose
And precision,
And I see
In the bend
Of your hips
The hurt
And hope
From which
They spring.
I should have known
That hearing your voice
Would draw my heart
To yours.

I find
Myself
In the frame,
Bound by
The aperture
And the mirror’s edge.
I trace
The slopes
Of shoulders
Into arms,
Of bones
Over *******.
I circle the button
And sink within.
And today,
In this hotel bathroom
With modern lines
And a touchy thermostat,
I remember
Other mirrors
In other bathrooms
Showing me what you see.
So I click and hit send
Before looking again.

I lie
Skin to skin
Me to you
Between sheets
Between states
Between stories
Of what’s right
And what’s left
With covers
Peeled
Back.
I lie
Still
As alarms scream
As you whimper
As the dream fades
Into ends
And means
That encapsulate
Life
Into easy-to-swallow
Objectives.
I lie
Quiet,
Committing
To memory
What it’s like
To feel your love
In heels
Tucked in toes,
In fingers
Tangled in hair.
I lie
Because,
If I’m telling the truth,
I’m waiting to discover
This was our last.

“I’m done”
She whispers,
Her resignation
Seeping
Through my ears,
Filling my skull,
Feeding the
One
Who
Knows
My worth,
Who
Keeps
Me safe,
Who remembers
The moments
That stripped
My worth
To bone,
And longs
For me
To be
Just
Bone.
And I knead
And pinch
And rub
My sins
Made flesh.
And try to
Remember
What it looks like
To care.

He peeks
Around the corner
Chin high
And hopeful,
To meet her gaze.
He kneels,
And lays
Fragments
Of a life imagined
At her feet.
She smiles
And sings
The chords
Of lives
Remembered.
And he’s just learned the chorus,
When he realizes he’s alone.

The last stake
Isn’t,
Then is,
Suddenly
Heavy
Rusty
Gilded in mud
Dirtying her fingers
That bend
To grip
One
By
One.
And in the moment
Her grasp
Is complete
She knows
It had
Always been
This little detail
At the end.
It’s not hard
To pierce the belly
(Right below the button)
But it’s two hands
That force it through.

I went searching,
Today,
For broken connections,
For old wisdoms,
For glimpses of a younger me
Through a younger me’s
Words.
It had been awhile
Since I thought about
The things
I used
To Know.
And I thought
And I searched
And I found
A silent sunset.
So
MySpace blogs are not a thing.