Torn into with teeth
Words well worn like the grooves
in a record
tracing a circular path
had i ceased this wordmaking
for a fear of repetition?
The record scratching—
breathe new life into me
my uranian lover gone like a flash
of inspiration
two sets of embraces
parting, presence
I am here
i will be gone
infatuations past pass by
seen with eyes anewed
the saxophone plays a soft embrace
my fingers trace your face
through a memory
my eyes jump from one being to
the next
missing you
melancholy
your aesthetic, ours
could we really begin
in the absence of skin?
have i need of your body
as much as your hand in mine
your heart in mine?
who are we, you
and those eyes so essential to me—
The stars birthed in my
collapsing gravity
what lingers in spaces left behind
embrace embrace embrace
me