I can’t step into the shower until I’m capable of etching the word “enough” on the glass door, and on the mirrors
Water turns into steam because you, we, us, (or something else) is adding energy in the form of heat
Kind of like two bodies wrapped around like olive branches. kind of like when we stayed together all morning and through the afternoon. Those moments where you laid me down and the floor pushed me into your arms and I fell into your lap and into your skin…
… I wish you were here.
Can you tell I’ve been trying to write love poems?
I’ll try to start with the way we met. The unfathomable meeting of us still shakes me. How exactly perfect in position the stars had to be.
And that night we brushed fingers on soft skin. We sat in front of the globe and measured with fingertips the distance between us.
You caressed my back/ danced your fingers up and down and spine and began to unfold me. carefully. tending to the wounds—-undoing my hips, unhooking my spine, unrolling my shoulder blades.
My hands on your body, beneath your thighs licking your fears.
And before I left, I rearranged everything. I climbed into your sheets and left imprints on your bed. I left my scent in each dent. Left hair on your pillows. I wore myself chaotic so you could see me everywhere.