Untitled # 121

We're crawling into each other's arms


like sleeping bags 

pretending we're cold 

but the reality is that 

I always sleep better when you were my pillow.

I haven't seen the glow in your eyes 

for a few weeks now,

foggy vacant streets replace

the night sky that I used to stare into 

before drifting away to meet them again

in my dreams. 

I didn't think you'd come back to this.

I didn't think you'd allow yourself to 

feel vulnerable under my touch. 

I don't know what map you took

to get yourself back under my sheets

back under my skin.

Bare bones, 

raw skin,

we're trapped in a tornado 

of us

spiraling back into old habits.

I thought our wordless goodbye

was the end to whatever meaning laid 

behind the notion of "us"

but sometimes moments are gestural

and you made your point. 

I thought I was done

trying to list every mistake

that starts with your name

but I guess that I wasn't quite finished

with you.