i took a shower
in candlelight; the moonrays
bathed me with silk threads



last night you were in my bed

the first guest in my bed and I

remember the last time someone sank themselves in my embrace

that was a desert ago, but I

am the same person, the sane person

you whispered feathers into my ears and foam into my nerves

you trailed moonlight down my chest and I

I’ve never known love like you’ve known love but I think

don’t think

I think I’m ready

you left the lights on and the bed made

your eyes soft and forgiving, unknowing, and you ask,

who hurt you?


the air is still in my lungs