I choke on our moments, like pendants tight on necks in summer. Can you hear the crushing of sternums? Blow this open; your sideways glances keep my hands warm. Sandalwood scents teeming, our breath on mouths so tight, you are welcome for this heartbeat.
You can walk away. (Just knowing you’d rather lose those legs makes me want to stay behind with you.)
There are things we do not say until on laminate floors half way to the sternest dawn. I never see my knuckles white with the lights off but your teeth catch space and time. I stutter with surprise and my voice is deep when in confirmation. Wrongs are never really righted but you find the solace I pride myself on curbing like one-way routes. These synapses fizzle under the drowning sickness. Our love never matches up.
Enough syllables have been spread between our thighs, remind me how tender my heart can be. Years later I am starting to doubt the weakness you planted. Have you seen a survival? I am so simple today I feel drunk on my own faith. Your burgundy pieces are a chess match; silk can separate mountains. These are the moments I forget your voice.