at the back of a receipt, a scribble:
you held me as if knowing exactly
fading against creases: to find
torn edges, some parts– missing.
like a response to a song
heard on the car heading home,
roll the words around your head
over and over. burst of genius,
cloud of smoke. fireworks.
the view outside complements
a stirring within. it is the road’s
usual, flash of yellow lights, blurring
facades, the faceless rush. fleeting,
every inch you know and then don’t.
in the corner of your back pocket, another secret:
your breath travels to corners
your lips refuse to touch
your eyes, my salvation
my kiss, our sin
the adventure you seek
is the risk you couldn’t take.
moving further, we accelerate.
the other foot already on the brakes.
her letters are neatly piled inside
your heart. waiting to be opened.
my words are crumpled
in the clutch of your fist.
the night moves away from us,
we move away from us.