I Die, Sun rise

I lie here in bed Saturday morning:
my breath in my throat,
in my chest.

I won't go back there, again.
The world swims before my eyes
and fades to night.

His sweat is
tangy like salt-water.
His vague form is above me,
the light of the moon
shines from the window-

that portal.
[Sister of a cold star.]

I am like the sun;
it doesn't hurt anymore.