Her head is hanging back by the wall. I am
the soft concrete alcove, but only for this moment,
the soft concrete alcove, but only for this moment,
her eyelashes grazing me. I part fish in her plastic
sea. Her open doors are a big fat smile. Remember
sea. Her open doors are a big fat smile. Remember
July: jesus, what did we do right. I snapped ice over
door handles, I paid more attention to architecture,
specifically how a room looked around her waist or
with her knees over my shoulders, hair dangling into
my eyes. Is this your first trampoline? We pulled the
blankets over it and guessed at who we were before
we were made for each other. Her voice was nasal,
but the way it sounded when she called my name was
a note thrown through a harpsichord. You. Idiot. I am
the air around the vowels of her enchantment. This is
the closest I have come to self-alignment. Bruise me,
rest your head on my stone. I am tender for now, and
then I break your heart.
blankets over it and guessed at who we were before
we were made for each other. Her voice was nasal,
but the way it sounded when she called my name was
a note thrown through a harpsichord. You. Idiot. I am
the air around the vowels of her enchantment. This is
the closest I have come to self-alignment. Bruise me,
rest your head on my stone. I am tender for now, and
then I break your heart.