as of late I have been drifting. into the night like
a pen would to paper, drifting like a ship on the
sea, into her bedroom window. flooding her
chest with upturned rhymes and a promise of
a new reality. but when I speak these words I am
lying., because what I should have said is
"baby, get up. my bed is higher, we can get out
of the water." and really you understand that the
water is me, and she my moon. without her
my currents call up storms that sink courage and
exactly how it felt when I first kissed her.
but when I speak these words I am lying.
because I met the man on the moon and he
told me to believe in tomorrows, and
long drives south. he told me there is always
more. and his words moved me like
her body pulled me into that space in the bed
that goes empty so quickly. and I toss
in and out of it all night long; thinking
the hole in my heart may never heal.