Monday, December 2, 2013

660million Km3

On the night we collided
We were skyscrapers
Then paper planes
Crumpled notes passed between lovers in study hall
we learned to share new space
learned to hold my body still

On the first night I slept in your arms
My whole skeleton was quiet
Wishing not to wake the sense from your skin
Maybe you’ll let me stay
If I cover my voice with the darkness
Maybe you’ll forget
I'm not him
And pull me close
At midnight
You did

Four days later I was back in my own bed
Struck by a silence so strong
It filled my room like a song
Flinging secrets to the ceiling
Old paper plane models
You might have found it amusing

The second night you slept in his arms
I found myself waking with a scream
I called out your name
But you were no one close
A million breaths away from my body
No wind to carry your scent to me

We are laying in our mattress
In the center of the pacific ocean
We are a whole sea of islands
Clothed and parted
660 mil km3 of water
salt separating skin
for the first time
in months
we are two bodies
tides pulled
in opposite directions

I am soaked in the salt of mistakes
And you
Are brown skin
Covered in cloth
Too cold
To be touched


i know the way silence grips
clasped against esophagus
all answers from diverted eyes
Are lies
breaths meant to cloak the quiet with comfort
will cause
Even the mightiest to crumble

the look of fear
to stay
for fear
not to be left alone
will love as less than deserved
will give quiet and kisses
will not stay
as long as you hope

I know the promise to run
To acknowledge the leave before the quakes
Before you are left with space
But who has ever regretted trying to tie love sill steel fingertips
Those who have tried to make the crumbling stick?

The only tears we remember
Are the ones that fell
When we realized our cowardice
In walking away