that perfect glimpse

the fresh smell
of a newly
laid mattress
on a perfectly assembled
bed frame roams
in the air

filling the room
with the virtuosity
of what only money
can buy.

a single glimpse
catches the painted
reflection of a newly
furnished life.

there’s nothing wrong
with that glimpse.
it’s all you’ve
always wanted to be.

silence.
utter silence.

and then you hear
a water drop traveling
down, reaching for
the sink,
to be in touch
with something it
belongs to.

or maybe your heart
wants it to be
that way.

this is what
loneliness
looks like.

How we do with our eyes closed

the familiar jazz
of lips, and hands
held tight. we sway
through this theme as
the stolen light
of this night.

falling apart like
sky, do not apologize
for change, you are
nature without
curtains.

in the face of naked
you hide your pieces
but your truth is
softer when we
winter.

like every line we
color, we can hear
each other’s song

and hold, the way
fingers grip a match
till it gasps into the dark
and they can hold the
flame

no long.