for days when the world wants more

just three minutes to steep some tea
dip a little sweetness in it
curl up into your honey
whenever you get the chance
and surrender to sleep

these cracked lips
remind me
of a time
when
i knew i had to leave
the sting--
my throat. my eyes. my pores.
so thirsty.
how i hate the wind
how the bitter snap slipped into our home (our warm home)
how it whips and returns for more
how it burns
how it burned
these cracked lips

a faint trace of our crossing

i knew you were a ghost.

you are not entitled

to my thoughts
to my energy
to my time
to my attention
to me
or to any part of me.

just as i am not entitled to any part of you.
those are choices that each of us makes
how fortuitous if our decisions should align somewhere along the way.

i wanted to remember the love lines

around your face [in your smile and contemplation]

you were movement and song,

harmony and meter.

you unraveled me;

we hadn't begun.

—possibility

conditioning

everything i own

has been anointed 

with feline magic

               —fur.

every time i see you
i wonder if it will be the last
there are so many things i want to say
but i don't.
that's not the way you raised me.

the things i didn't say

it sits in my mouth
stagnant, it begins to curdle

worn.

if i should break into pieces

would that be enough to go around

the process of leaving

it's slow, sometimes
you may not even realize it's happening

but i do.

A Dream: in Yellow

I'm lying in bed and running my fingers over the curves of my partner's brow and cheek. I drink in his gaze as the sun creeps into our sheets. I bury my laugh in the crook of his shoulder and catch my smile against his neck. His stubble scratches my nose and he buries his face in my nest of hair. I am so lucky to share in this whispered intimacy. It doesn't need to be forever. It is enough that it is at all.