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