Your eyes are so dark

that I cannot distinguish

the pupil from the iris.

Sometimes I lie down inside of them

wearing nothing but the body I came in.


Is it the sea which rages inside of me

or is it only your pulse compressed?

I have erected your monolith,

I have taken it into myself and desecrated it

while screaming nonsense at a sky

which was too dry and too flat to belong to heaven.


We met face to face in an airport,

the distance between us only as wide

as our clothes were thick.

Night after night I watched you

quietly rearranging the stars

knowing, all the while, that our lives couldn’t fit together

without a foundation of some kind.

It’s not your blood that drowns my sorrows

but your laughter and it’s not your shadow that eclipse me 

but your hands and only in the best possible ways.


I have come to know your name

as intimately as my own heart.

I have shaped it in my mouth

I have chewed it bloody,

I have tied it in knots

using only my tongue

and my teeth as a ballast.


Love used to be an act of invention

now it is only the reiteration of our breath.

We no longer need an excuse to touch

and as your smile edges closer to mine

I recognize in myself an awkwardness

that time and familiarity have yet to extinguish.

Everything we do is inaugural, avant-garde,

essential to the distillation of our tears.

Nothing loved can ever become habit.