I have a short list of words—
Words I would whisper out into
The deepdeepdeep night
With the bigbigbig trees—
The trees that I think are all
About sex.
An arrangement of letters
Wrapped into one of those billions
Of words
That I haven’t ever said to you
before.
I would touch your ear again,
Feeling the
Peach fuzz that
Covers it completely. Feeling your
Heart
Beat
Through the thin fabric of your
pajamas
Across your broad ribcage.
I can feel each coil of muscle
Where it attaches
To each piece of bone.
But who watched you move silently,
Violently,
Achingly aware of your proximities.
Stiffly grasping, like a
broken-backed bird.
All the while silently sobbing—
But refusing to wake
The sleeping world?
Me.
So I’ll stare at the intrusive glow
of
My phone screen,
The blue reaching back into my
Orbital Fenestra,
Where it can’t hurt anyone.
I will turn it off
And go to sleep.
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