April 12, Summer 2013

We used to be silly
thinking our love could outlast the summer,
milling
about thrift stores
making homes of tea shops and
cozying up in our bedroom corner
hoping these threadbare blankets would keep us warm
against the cold that set in
unseasonably early.
We were silly
hurling words as if they would dissipate
in open space
and not slowly chafe
at our sensitive parts,
thinking an open palm meant only give when
an open palm also spells want
and we were wont
to fall apart
young and lost and always searching
but never seeing
ourselves.

April Poem-A-Day #4 Distance

Dis-em-body

I don’t like the look of you,
all teeth and want,
rough hands
grasping.
Only moments ago
their smooth touch soothed this flesh,
but now it grows cold
as absently, I watch you devour
the offering of these limbs,
watch them sink into the furnace
of your mouth.