Your shadow stretches across my arm,
a miniature giant with awkward proportions,
I bend my fingers to see your eyes, and I am smiling
into the sleeping bag beneath me, drenched with sweat
and smelling like sex. You walk away, and I want to write
down the way your arms feel like the worn-out hoodie I
used to wear, comfortable and a heady burst of secrets and
bloodstains and smiles, I kiss you to taste the salt on your upper lip,
I want you to take over my immune system and destroy my cells,
rebuild me in any way you see beautiful.

(I pretend I could care less; you smile, I cry,
I forgive you. there are endless sentences caught in
your face, I want to pull them out of your skin
and put you down on paper)

The sun hits the window just right,
you go back to being a memory,
and I exhale the regrets I promised not to have