{may.2010}

it wasn't a hurricane
just you
on my bed with your shoes on
(like me)
fighting screams i never could have taught you

i didn't want to hold your arms back
so i held mine high and told you
tried to show you the
impossibility of ever knowing
where we
when we
could tell we were enough

i don't want wet noses or sloping
summer teeth but
we are both apple core-
both bottoms up defeat
already expecting the
nausea of staying still