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

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