I Know The Score

Who wakes up shaking
thoughts of touching
your face and who drinks
their coffee in the sun? Some
day we'll switch places. If
peace is what you're after we
can't help ourselves. If fire
tasted like your tongue
I would hold it
down until it turned the walls
of my belly black.
Don't look at me.
It's taken this long
to hear, at last, within
the sparks, your
lower octave.
What won't boil up, or
spare me from the rubble.
Your invitation folds
into a paper airplane
without any wings.
Nightmares of hurting
the ones who hurt you
bruise my neck turning
water on the nightstand
into sand. I can't think
on this incline. Wrecked
my shoulders straightening
to catch my age. Please
don't say again what you
think of me. It runs out
the clock. Our time spent
looking for the perfect CD
was an anomaly. We never
found it. I am tempted
to finish with metaphoric
flourish, to draw a line,
to make perfect music
from our missing teeth.
But imagining an image
beats the breath out of me.
And those who think
themselves yours
have it worse,
because they are bound
to lose you.