it means nothing when I picture your hands sliding
through the motions of my patient body, of your eyes smiling when I am
beneath your slight frame.
until everything is anything again and
until the wind has stopped blowing at my back
or until I have enough courage to turn around,
I will settle, with limbs limp, into a deep, u-shaped sigh
and drift in and out and
caress the air and
fondle my breath,
knowingly or not.