Saturday, January 6, 2007

add this to the collection of things i will never show you

i love you
i always have,
i never stopped
from the moment your fingertips
traced shapes on my spine
and shoulders i
wanted your touch,
unlike any other
you asked,
didn't think of taking,
or trying without
letting me bow my body
into you.
so small, that happiness, but
it meant the world to me

and then
a year
separating us, most of which
i spent
miserable, silent and sick
as you sat
feet from my trembling limbs,
locked into my hunched position
locked away from your mind.

but the universe can sometimes shift
in threehundredandsixtyfive days
can turn into us,
circling each other like
sniffing canines,
lying on your
[ex]marital bed, the
same frame
i used to lie in
surrounded on both sides,
but now
there is only you
inexplicable you who
made me want you, who
i tried so hard not to love,
in vain

so, give me, please
one of your goddamned cigarettes
the taste of which i
never dreamed i'd miss
on my tongue, miss enough
to start smoking my own -
send me your desires,
and missives over
email, although honestly
i prefer your letters that come
addressed by hand, your
blocky script
spelling my name out,
tell me
what you do with your days.