revised poem.

When You Said Go

I watch you not watch me
as I stubble out your door

In loudly lit stairwells
I breathe away knots in my shoulders
clusters of tension and unspoken lines.

Between every even numbered door
I trace your tracks on my skin
to find some limp in step
where you fingers tripped over a rib
or was cut by a look that stowed away in the
backs of my knees

Outside January air conspires with me
that we can find some drink strong enough
to convince you to fuck me again
so I can be sure your spine is curled in you somewhere

Is there any need in you
that could be enough to press you
to look after me
once with softness.