imagine we still spoke
& you asked me
what is the most terrible thing
that happened to you
and i turn, facing you
perhaps in bed
as the morning light filters through dusty slats
june below sea level in a city, listing to sink
here naked, covers strewn around our ankles
the a/c never stops humming
we barely touch, the heat of our skin
filling the emptiness
and i get lost in the deep swell
of your eyes upon me
to think in all of this chaos
you could see
the answer
i whisper into the palm
of your hand
"time"
No comments:
Post a Comment