& oh the precision of your cheekbones
that night I thought you had courage
I lost my heart beat
since then I’ve been nursing questionable resentment
that I’m sure you didn’t mean to scratch
but I could not cope with the way I gleaned
with quesy disappointment
so I confided my heart attack speckled skin
with a priest;
scrunched up my sweater
held out my wrist
and listened for his silence
he watched it ripple
my skin spilling and welling like rapids
while itching the side of his nose
he observed my unnatural charm
my veins pulling then retreating under my hems
the bubbles cracking by my clavicle
and swelling of my fingers nails
the feverish sweating under my eyes
his voice: deep
as though projected from a tunnel
traced and tickled my cheeks
with its assurance that I belong to god
I tell you this now
And you stand across from me & listen: stonily
remotely concerned about me
or maybe believing you whole-heartedly are
but i can’t find a pace slow enough to look at you
dead on
you politely decline to watch any phenomena
belonging to me
and look sorry
sorry for your own distance
or my loss of you
I’m not sure but I know
you believe you are
sorry
with your taunt lips and lapses of silence
I suck the inside of my cheek
And return to scripture
speaking hymns
while watching you across rooms
keeping time
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