You have stilled my hands,
one too many times.
The white flutters of snow fall between us,
frozen together.
Our breath forms like angels,
reaching out to each other.

The warmth of your eyelids,
beside me at night,
brighter than fire,
scalding my pillow,
leaving marks on the sheets.

The city ate us,
but the buildings teeth feel soft as snow.
I am numb to all but
the burn of your fingers,
your hands filled the summer air with water droplets
and drown us.
and I am washed downstream.
I am gone, and New York melted away,
and our eyes no longer fit together,
cracked like statues.

I sleep, I no longer dream,
but I live in the heavens,
I see what’s not there (I always did)
above my head.

My life is a marble,
filled with others dreams,
dancing like constellations, stretched in new positions.
I live through their fingertips.
I feel his ribs and heart beside me,
even now.