It’s just one night past
last night
when we wore each
other(s)kin
pore against pore
the divots and curves and hollowed out
portions of us
mixing bowls and not-quite-sealed
containers
spilling out.
each one of us stirring and stirred
tearing, homonym tearing
caught in a movement
so much bigger than the day
before
even the hours before
and i said phrase after phrase
directly into your ear
of who and what i want you to be
to me.
and I choose
compliment
as my favorite
or perhaps “missing piece”
and tonight,
as you are sleeping in the
room I slept in as a child
I am denting the pillow we share
every night but tonight
and cherishing the faint
scent of you.
