Paw-Paw Picking
For Jamie
Next to my pillowed head, your hair tousled,
images of bramble bird nest. You never
slept straight, your long limbs tossed
about and bent weirdly and estranged,
in all those mornings of waiting.
You kissed like you slept: all over the place-
favorites, the hollow of my neck
and corners of my small lips. Words
nonsensical and outrageously limp.
The touch of stealing covers and pushed
bottom sheet.
(words spoiled things, stale heels left
to mold in the breadbox.)
and when we did open our cavern to
voice we skirted and were vacillant
in nature. a p a r t and geographically
undesirable. but we stuck with
like old sticking plasters.
the last forshadowed the end, and was
all but ignored until that moment of severence
was knocking.
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what do you guys think so far?
CL
