please,
don't fight.
just listen.
you owe it to me.
when i breathe,
i deflate.
without you here,
i don't know when to sleep,
or wake up.
i do little of either.
but
don't follow me. don't
look back, and don't
say i didn't try.
for all our unfinished games,
our furrowed brows and missing socks: don't
miss me, don't miss me.
for every single drink you drank, i counted;,
and for all the food i watched you refuse: don't say i don't eat enough. i can, and,
i might.
and for every tremor in our dappled universe:
why did we move the way we moved? together, and now
apart?
for every quake:
what gave me pause, or
made my throat thick with fear?
i'll tell you now.
in this infinitely late hour, finally, if infinitesimally, intrepid.
i don't miss you at all.
(and when i say dappled, i meant it all:
the tongue, the shoulders, the shoes, the mind.)
i miss myself,
before i was yours.
(2011)