I hope you know that

everytime our eyes meet it is
Anthony and Cleopatra,
it is ee cummings and his
dark-haired mistress, it is
every love affair that has ever been
lived again and 
again and
again

in those brief seconds 
when our eyes meet, in those
I can feel you 
looking for a reason
forever 
searching 
me

tell me when you find it, 
and let me hold it in my lips
for the next time
our eyes
meet

Don't hold me.

As much as I want a humidifier for this cold,
I want to breathe on my own.

That which would make you more than a dream isn't worth much, to me.

creeping along my hairline in
beads of sweat and in
my eyes, in the corners he
urges along tears, rides them, 

painting 

down


my 




cheeks,



then onto my neck, 
kissing my collar bone
and, in passing, 
tickles the freckles 
between my 
breasts. 

the little that's left of him fingers into 
streams on my belly that has 
been hungry for him - 



- he knows.

a visit from you always leaves me wanting

my food has begun to taste as 
I'm sure I've begun to
look:

grey
quiet
tired and
mean