It’s not for the tiny hairs on my nape
That rise to the occassion
Of your touch
That I am moved
By you over the universe that is my bed.

Nor the faint but hurried whisper
Of the ticking clock
(Our time together)
The second second gallops
Like a horse in the clouds-
They should be silent-
But they rumble
Like my heart.

Not the gray sky
At 5AM that ushers the smell
Of the neighbor’s breakfast
When the warmth of your
Sleeping arms begin to gather dew
Against my skin.

Nor the smell of the sun
On your hair when you wake
And realize that you spent the night
Again
Without meaning to–

Because you cannot bear
Deserting me.
Not when I am a naked seed that
Craves the earth of your embrace
That springs in the morning
A two-leafed shoot.

It’s when you wake
And realize that you
Don’t belong here
A seedling grew
Where there shouldn’t be.
You till me
Like the soil strewn
With your clothes across the floor.

The swift imagined pain
I feel when you rip yourself
Off my chest

Mimicking a sting
In my heart.

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