I hit my leg against the bed,
A sudden pain began to spread.
Perhaps it rose up from my soul,
A jolt, a snap, the greatest show—
My femur’s way to pull me back
And show me I’m not whole.
Then later on, you called my name,
And I agreed to play your game.
We talked, we laughed, we shared a kiss,
But I still felt no trace of bliss.
We made love, you held me tight,
Then fell asleep while I stayed wide.
I watched you breathe with quiet eyes,
While yours were closed to all the night.
There’s so much salt within my tide,
Yet I can’t sink, though I have tried.
Perhaps I think that love and pain
Must wear the same poetic chain,
Or beauty needs a tragedy
To make it feel complete to me.
It’s all I know, it’s all I’m worth,
You said I’m perfect, but since birth,
I’ve only ever been designed
To be a thing you leave behind.
Sincerely, I am just a verse,
A secret poem, soft, immersed,
Beneath your sheets so clean and white.
And though one line may break its rhyme,
It tells me joy is bound to find
Us both, in time, despite kismet signs.
