say the quiet grows around me
promise you know i’m still here

say the slip of light is what we lacked
to pin my hands on your chest
for not just tonight

when senses become emigrants
and have stopped taking me, say
the leftover waters will not empty me
of you someday

say i wasn’t here again
because you still sleep on just half the bed

because lampposts still measure the heavy lengths
involved in our longing

say we’ll leave some choices
still warm
on the pillows beside us

and i’ll place along my body tiny pebbles
or fireflies

so the leavings are lighter
and then know how to come back

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