the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull

and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation

I would not remember you

or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these

and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops

a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight

those living
things

living deep
inside

sleep most
days

and most
nights

only come
alive

when you
walk by

and say hi

I want to touch you.
I want to be under your skin.
I want you to love me.
I want you to wrap yourself around me.

Cover me with your warmth.
Until the coldness in my heart is gone.
Until I no longer feel lonely.

Because it is a sad thing to be Alone.
And Your flesh gives me strength.
Reinforces the belief that it is real,

Your love for me that is.