it is in the lull
where the littlest of toes
starts to inch away
as if it will finally meet its partner
that does not reside
on this side of the mattress
or really this mattress itself

for it is the silence that await the musical score
that always starts with how you breathe while slumbering
and the pillows themselves
seem to ache
etched in stone like medusa herself
petrified their forms as if you laid against them
edging her on

maybe it is the silence
that is petrified
you will not return
it simply misses its partnered limbs
and evening symphonies

as kingdoms have been erected
and as empires have crumbled
not once
did proposals
such declarations from the heart
become more important
than the quiet pleas
of the soul
cradling itself
within the etches of time and callused palms
waiting permission
asking
if they may give themselves to the other
in the only form it knows

amongst the leaves
and the whispers across the sea
in the shadows
and trailing through the trees
it was in the moonlight
the shimmer of the dawn

the echoes of your pulse
splattering dirt through the lawn
kettles screaming for release
murmuring kisses into skin

oh darling
let me hold you
forever and a day.

it is in the moments where we want to scream
and yell
and wander the streets like a madwoman
screaming your declarations for the world to know
but instead
we must sit in silence
and stare at the wall
acknowledging paint flecks
like Siken said
laughing till you feel no more

when I was little
when war was fun and fights were competitions
I never thought
about the little girl
stuck
between the lines
or the little youngling
who was neither here nor there
but simply, was
and the world called loser.

I wish I hadn't wasted
the moments I ached for his hands around me
or the tickle of laughter
clawing at my throat
oh what I would have done
if his fingers
weren't riddled with ink
stamping my skin
till it was trademarked
and no longer mine