cold again. good for bears, hiking, and chopping wood. good for blankets and fucking and breathing you in. a good winter for ultra-sonic wave lengths, geometry books and glimmering jeweled eyes.
she teased me with her small haunting, with small offerings. i see shadows, i hear voices now. she used me when she needed to feel good. it's okay, it fits me too. she's a risk, something from the past. I don't want anything new. old lovers fall easily into bed, easily into arms and sleep and words like forever and always. words like i miss you and good bye.
She says we are always close, I'll always be the one, but it's not true. I wont touch her again. In certain moments we might miss each other. late at night i might whisper your name, i might smile and hold back words. It doesn't mean i won't feel you again. we dug our holes with golden rings and shovels. distance, cruel as all snow and rain and diamonds.
Ive gotten into this thing where i look up a new word for the day. Today, it's apotheosis. I look out the window and repeat it to myself the word and its meaning. I use it in three different sentences. I like the word. a word lavish with sunlight, with the gods gladsome songs. the golden power of the sun.we once ate fruit and discussed Mexico. She seemed serious about going. she wanted to live in a house that jutted out over a high crag, a house with gardens inside and out. We'd grow our own food, make love whenever we wanted, and read the lives of saints to each other through the terrifying night.
