How many bruised pears will I eat until you come back? Like how I left you. You contort yourself and I pull my teeth. All this to prove I can love. The sunflowers wilt like sad faces in a crowd. I’m one of them.
How can fingers unlearn memory? A hand anchored to the neck. Enamored with the torso. Curved around a leg. I was inside you once. Muscle and skin. The art of whispering to make hair stand on end.
How else should this play out? Crying after ages over what’s predetermined from the womb. Gifted an extra pulse. Oxygen cut off to teach me desolation. Two body impressions on the bed turn into one.
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