our transaction history:
pleasure between keyboard strokes,
stolen moments, momentary wave.


the absence of heat and the heat of absence:
hand between thighs, love between sheets,
every day is the first day of my life.

my ***** heart is hungover
overdue for a kickstart
startled and *******
all for you,
all for you.

i remember our first
outing by the sea
coffee in hand
you showed me markings
with meanings
and some without
you showed me you
but just a bit
and I remember we ran
you ran so gracious
and bit by bit I learned you
I am a student of you
and we'd live
by that window
we'd sleep
we had  many nights
by that window
sealed shut
and left across
outside
looking in

love a bit
love a bit

you look so good,
look so good,

the eyes relay to the mind

paining, pining
i am refusing to branch
onto your spokes i am vining
touch me soft—***** your hand

was that really me?

i almost regret not introducing you to my friends
memories fall so separate
i squint to see overlap

so many minutes of my life in your apartment
i must not have lived them
if i cannot again relive them

was it really me on spotted counter top
was it really me against white brick
touch my palm to induction stove
hoping to burn but only touching magnetism

i almost regret letting it into my head

Sorry I can't
hear you any
—more.
I think we're

breaking up.


I think we're

breaking down
each other.