Jan 13, 2009 11:03
I thought I'd felt your shape, but I was wrong, really all I felt was falsely strong.
I held on tight, I closed my eyes.
It was dumb, I had no sense of your size.
It was dumb, I held so tight
But last night, on your birthday, in the kitchen,
My grip was loose my eyes were open.
I felt your shape, I heard your breathing,
I felt the rise and the fall of your chest.
I felt your fall, your winter snows,
Your gusty blows, your lava flow.
I felt it all:
Your starry night and your lack of light.
With limp arms I can feel most of you.
I hung around your neck independently,
And my loss was overwhelmed by this new depth I don't think I ever felt.
But I don't know, my nights are cold still
I remember warmth,
I could have sworn I wasn't alone.
There's no more hugging in the kitchen,
No more pats on the back in the hall.
No more chest on breasty chest behind the curtain.
No more lip on nape of neck in shower stall.
No more cozy gardens or craving curvy hips on my belly.
I'm giving up so I can be free from you.
I'm paying fees so I can sever ties from you.
Let craving call and beg and bawl, and face it tall.
Let my soft skin have more sweet soft air on me.
Let boulders drown.