158.

now that I have swung my ribs wide for you
and asked you into my lungs, how long
will it take you to dive into my bloodstream
how long will it take me to breathe and bleed you out

did you bring me here to fill my hands
with all the autographs you've signed
to get me drunk on the water these blue lights bathe you in
and even with you crooning sideways at me, two fingers
against your lips and your breath in my hair
will you still be fifty feet away

will I stay heavy-lidded at noontime tomorrow
just to feel your dusky smile against my face again
will I draw my shutters and paint what I can remember of you
inside my praying palms, and kneel at my bedside
until you come back home again

is this what you wanted, what I asked for
you pull and tether me to your side before you walk away
so that shades of me still trail behind you
like ribbons across state lines

should I be sorry, or should I keep
your wildflowers in my pocket, sticker burrs and all
is it worth it for the slant of your sea glass eyes
and the sharp huff of your laughter through a cold night

157.

look at what I have left myself
some transparent retinal burn, a copy of your cornflower eyes
pressed half against my memory or lost to it
and using your name as a bookmark

and how can I hold you lightly
when I never held you, only waited
for a swig of strawberry cider across the table
(something to keep my fingers from itching for yours)
or a fluster of blood in my cheeks at your grin

I am painting wings on your back
and forgetting that you are neither angel
nor bird of prey

and forgetting the precise shade
of your hair, your teeth
I only ever saw them once, and now
I have left myself with only screens to smoke
illusory reminiscence and nothing to sleep beside

but if I sought your skin and sewed our hands together
if I found you tonight, and fleshed out the blurs in my recollection
with the solidness of your hips and elbows
would we hum together
or fall away

perhaps you are at your best in hindsight
perhaps I should let you stay there

156.

I watched two girls embrace in defiant answer
to some question: yes, we are here
and they kissed with cracked leaf lips, desperately
like every gust of wind was out to tear them

we all kiss in the shadows
of men, spitting flower petals on the pavement
as we unbind our hands to pray
at the alters of freckled knees and elbows
of softness and slope

no, we are not going away
but we wait for nightfall sometimes
before we break our fingers and show each other
our blood and bones
sometimes we think we need cover of darkness
to revel in the pinkness of our bed sheets
to braid our lipstick mouths

these girls did not know
that half the passersby were unfazed.
they were bristling with spears and armor
accustomed to battle by now
and terrified, and in love

155.

tired of writing myself weak, punching
keystrokes with cracked fingernails
swallowing second-guesses and spitting them back at you
printing angry poems into wallpaper so I won't forget
on mornings like this, when I wake up with bile in my throat
and I can't remember why

tired of writing myself weak, raking
fingernails over my skin and leaving red marks
and pretending you put them there
I am terrified of waking up on mornings like this
and forgetting you, and forgetting what you did
and having nothing to write about

154.

the day is sweeping sunlight fingers through my hair,
brushing gold over my eyelids, and I have never noticed
how my skin can candle-glow at noontime

and the breeze has spoken to the leaves
coaxing them to sigh away from their branches
and land on my shoulders like a spray of freckles

this is the first day of the first year with my eyes open
stretching languid muscles, testing my strength
and I am bathing in my own breath

so I kiss my soil feet and say a quiet prayer
to the god of secrets - crossing my head and heart,
a promise to keep this between the earth and me

153.

I am reminded of you in the pit in my stomach
in my cigarette cravings and in pretending to be half-asleep
in the sound of second glances and missed opportunities
in cramping legs and in held breath

I am reminded of you in the shake in my fingers
in coffee grinds and backwards caps
in the gray and green of rain and the black of 5 AM
in waiting to be kissed and in avoidance

all I have left are reminders under my fingernails
kicking back dust into smoke from the evenings when I told you
"I swear I'll quit buying packs, just after this last one"
because I was so nervous to show you my wrists, my throat
knowing you had never brought me knives before, but
I thought there was a first time for everything

so I trembled and smoked and apologized
and you just smiled and stayed silent
swaying with your hands in your pockets

I spent every moment split in two, half ankle-deep in cement
and half putty-melting toward you
cursing my crossed legs and knowing
that nothing was left between us but yellow light illuminating
the nicotine we exhaled, and we sat in that standstill for months

now I am reminded of you in the creak in my bones
in opening clenched fists only to find them empty
in the crescendo, and in cutting the music off
before the song is over

152.

gather up every sharp and hollow memory you keep of us
(like every kiss I should have cursed you with)
and I will take them from you, and fill your hands
with violets and my yellow fingers instead

there are so many ways to say I'm Sorry

and I am pressing my lips to every photograph we never took
the way your breath smelled in the dead of night,
when you sang a crown over my head and held my shoulders
and all they ever did for you was turn cold

maybe this is what I deserve, silence like a punch in the gut
blinded by the absence of you and all I want
is the hum of your skin on my mouth
and the place on your neck that I kept secret, and I swear
I still trip over the way you smiled at me under the table
when your mother forgot my dinner order

you laced under me like crossbeams
and you lifted me up by the knees

now I am dripping like creek water and I am asking you
to please come back

because there is so much of you that I squandered
and I should have brushed my fingers all down your arms every day,
should have kissed your palms and your eyelashes,
should have wrapped myself around your waist every morning
and not let you walk out the door

there are so many ways to say I'm Sorry
and I choked on them all
and stayed quiet