smelled you out, sensed your heat, clung to you those long 36 hours, feeding off your life, drinking you in. I wonder if my love

you were home to me for so long until you just became someone walking around at night in the rain showing up one last time

Proskelyte¹ I see your thighs, the dusky patch between, dark fires ignited, promising. I see your ankles, alabaster white and beautiful, pressed against me, stroking.

I have nothing to give you, and nothing on a piece of paper will help except that having lost everything, you have less than nothing,

Before my first date with my husband, I stood him up twice; why he still came that Friday, honestly I’ll never know. I cry once

We stare at each other with the viscosity of honey, yellow against the warmth of a star. Sticky like the clouds you pluck, sticking them

There is no time in her life for dreams and the first sparrow of the day never sings at her window.   She rises swiftly

You pull your genuine leather belt from the door handle, saunter towards me splayed across the mattress with that grin that wets. Bind it around

Let not come a day When we agree only In shared hatred. For I have seen people perish With vitals running, Smothered by necklaces And

We swore young love would never die; we’d cherish one another ever more; yet, every season has its longing, and summer’s truly autumn dawning. Now

I tried, when we met to put you from my mind.   Forced myself to stop each time I thought of you and think of

I searched my whole life, for a place, Somewhere to call, my own Then you came along and turned my studio flat into a three

You’re my one last drink. The one I’m always debating to have. The one I know will relinquish my inhibitions; confessions will pour like smooth,

Listen. Rain against mesh, wetness thrumming. Enter the scent of warmth, a shoulder shelter, while, in the distance, conveyed to me you put your head

Of my departed wife and listen for her to call my name as I wait to hear brilliant words on her tongue teaching the wisdom