(every windowpane reflection
bears an emptiness
of you)



when all i'm left with
is lingering memories
i realize

you're beautiful




perhaps sometimes
i wax poetic

but i know no words
in human tongue
that could ever do justice
to the grace
of your collarbone
or the purity
found in the hollow
of your stomach

the small of your back
could be my home
and my hands would never long
to wander elsewhere


hips like glass
begging to be broken

(how i secretly loved
to see them angular
and projecting,
thin ribs to match)



skeletal lover,
i adore thee



counting up the shadows
that define your tangible
nothingness





i want to taste you again.