For you, wherever you may be

My body sweats in love, is electric.
The moon, the sun, every fluorescent
bulb in the ceiling sky; they flash
and explode all at the same time, all
for you. So my body now, hot with love,
begs for forgiveness and relief, and I strip
down to naked bones, my flesh uncurled;
I am exposed.

Under the calm night sky, I am a rambling
engine of worry, an enigma of lust, the dust
of your words leaving bitter gut rot in my mouth.
I reach out my hand to touch you, but all I touch
is ash. Soft discontent. My words leaving wisps
of smoke in the salty air, trailing off in nevers
and should have beens, the ellipses dotting
my way like pebbles, the pause still hovering
above my head. Clouds of thought holding
buckets of doubts, ready to pour down
on my awkward frame, washing me out
to a half-person, now soaked
with my own fear of the future.

I collect what remains of myself, holding my breasts
together with the glue on my palms, and walk away,
knowing this is what will be best for us both.

When I paint my pictures with words tomorrow,
it is only your face that will be read.