and miles to go before i sleep

our bodies splayed on the floor of my room. i open the book i’m writing about you and say how do you say this and i point to hedonist. 

you say head-on-ist.

i say it’s heed-on-ist.

you say you heathen and i’m struck by the smile on you.

i scoop up water in my palms and watch it run out. is it in-sure-unce or in-sure-ance. 

in-sure-ance. your hair is catching the sun. i watch your mouth move around the syllables like syrup.

we’re outside and i point up. is that a firefly or a lightning bug? 

you look over to me. whatever it is, i’m in love.

But what of us who did not love the right person that first precious time.

What about us who carry that break like a knife fight, who learned from the falling, who put up better defenses. The excuses we make for not trying again litter our beds. The habits to hide our softness.

God, I want to be tender like a wound but I already healed over. Instead I know not to touch the stove because I’ve seen what happens.

Oh I close my eyes. My new love is not a bullet or a bike chain.

and you get to live your life and forget about me and scoff about how im crazy or making shit up or how i’m just dramatic. you get to keep going, laugh about it, shrug it off. we both know i’m melodramatic. that my personal narrative is all messed up. that i make shit up.

like, it must be nice. showers are probably just showers for you. no standing in the water picturing what i’d say, what i’d do, how i’d show you. you get to walk away. that must be nice.

You look up. Wrinkle your nose. “Why are you staring?”

I get wordless. All tangled heat and longing. I wanna build a universe where we never get out of bed. I wanna crawl into your arms like ivy, catch your laughter from the air and spin it into a blanket. You make me feel like I’m moss on a tree which is to say you make me feel like I’m home and where I’m supposed to be. Around you I trap sunlight. I want to tell you the inside of the forest you planted in me.

Open my mouth. “You’re a nerd.”

he is half of my soul, as the poets say.