when I was younger I wanted to have someone

who would dip their hands into

my skin

my hair

the sleeves of my shirt

my fingers

who would be suddenly on my mouth, somewhat open.

who would be the gravitas of lust

who would be tears I cried imagining

allusions to another life.

when I was twenty two I walked for the door in the dark

pawing at the wall

searching for the metal of the doorknob

there wasn’t time to flick the light switch

and I stood in the dark unkissed

waiting for you to feel your way towards me.

remember when I was young and loved you

like a pack of cigarettes

like a pack of wolves

or a barn on fire,

a town in Minnesota waiting of the summer.

remember what you said

I’m sorry.

it’s okay. I remember.

when I see you I’ll slip my hands around your collar bones

and pull you forward until your knees touch mine

and the metronome will stop.


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