Desiderata

Look, I miss you. It’s all I can do not to miss you, not to want you intertwined in my life. Not to text you when things go wrong and when things go right and I see something that is so -you- but circumstances haven’t changed. Circumstances haven’t changed and when I ran, you didn’t chase after me and when I turned to look the other way, you weren’t looking back.

“Tell her she’s a bluet, but not blue. And if it’s color that she wants, tell her she’s a blackbird, that she’s flying. That she could only ever be flying. If she’s a number, tell her she’s more than ten but less than twelve. When you say this mean her legs, mean the long number 1’s wrapped around your back. Tell her you feel most religious when she’s sitting naked in a chair. Tell her religion is all you need. Take her hands off your hips and put them on a statue’s hips. Tell her This is hardness. This is what it’s like to want. If she’s a herring, tell her she’s a dead herring. That she’s glowing. That she could only ever be glowing. And of all shapes: the circle.     Days: Tuesday.      Words: Brimful When you take her to bed, take her slowly. Then put her in parenthesis and keep (her) there, always.”