Wordle #180

I am brought together
by saliva and cacoethes.
The veins under my skin
branch out delicately
in every direction until infinity.
We used to be infinity
now the quantity of us
at time exceeds the quality
of our memories.
The quantity of us
has given rise to monuments.

If I were to continue pouring
my heart into you
like honey over a wound
you would drown in me.
I have given.
You have given
and still by your measure
we are not even.

We are only leaves
whispering hoarsely
in a glass room without any doors.
Your shadow presses
in from all sides
and it’s not the darkness
I fear but the weight
of you pressing
the dregs from lungs.

My God how I’ve loved you,
a lifetime at least,
but you stir and prod
until I have nothing
to offer but platitudes.
I cannot match your stoicism,
your need for specificity
and each day I wear myself
down at your behest
like a river caviling
the rocks along
its embankment.