ISSUE: Winter 2022
You ain’t got to love me, but you gonna know that I love you.
—Moonlight
the first time i tasted you, my love, i fell
upon the grand prairie of your neck.
you are sweet wind. i wait for you to exhale.
i warm at the edge of your breath.
your skin is the only living place i alight.
my love, i will be as quiet as possible,
as tender in my digging as a pest can be.
my love, did you know i can live months
without a meal? i forgive you. it has been a week
and i cannot sense you anywhere.
in our usual place there has only been shoaling clouds
of oil; lavender, mint, citronella, and a chemical
neither of us can name. i forgive you,
but do not adorn for me, my love.
i need to gather just a grain of you. siphon
into me one minuscule bead at a time.
don’t break me open, we need to go as far
as we can. whatever is inside me is there,
my love, don’t try and retrieve it now.
