upon and inside you,
it’s what I can’t touch
that will stay with me the most.
Like a lover’s spark nestling within
to never leave the place you built.
The sound can become a bullet and blade
perfectly edged with the velocity
to separate skin, to split petals,
to clutch a novena while another
name is placed over me.
You taught me everything I need to know
about how to draw blood from a stone.
Each spilling droplet containing stills,
the touch cooling my fevered cheek before you go
to the enigmatic fog I cannot be a part of,
phantoms nestled in the fragile planes
we must move through alone.
The cold winds ravaging there,
snapping the wires that hold me safe,
it’s what I can’t keep that
will haunt me the most.
Like extinguishing candles and lamps
from glowing amber to the dark
stones I’m left alone to crush.
The separate skin whispering
you’ll be something else to another,
a curiosity to reach for and remake,
a number engraved in a novena
placed over me.
I’ve wanted to fill every hollow in you,
the nameless planes with alien languages
I’m not made to be a part of,
I still want you for exactly who you are.
Even when you’ve gone to who
remains nestled within you.
Where you taught me everything I need to know
about how to draw blood from a stone.
