Thud thud,
like the beat of a battle drum,
Hallowed cries of victory
Within the capillaries
of your body,
A faint pulsation of adrenaline,
Fresh from the free fall of another
Spiralling of self control,
Beneath layers of fair, smooth skin
lies the undulating tide of blood
and oxygen,
Cascading down narrow slivers
of your veins.
each shuddered breath
is another catalyst of
Life,
Another slam on the accelerator
that surges you further down
the fast lane,
Those faint pulses of yours
Never cease to amaze me.

I filled my gas tank to 33 dollars and 33 cents 
and told you it was for you
because it was your favorite number.
I organized our belongings 
(white t-shirts—books—toothbrushes—
baby, this is where we keep our sweaters)
 as if using the word “our” would embed myself
into what you call home.
I bought flowers from a homeless man
because you are a botany major. 
I wanted to bring them to you,
wilting and loveless, and show you how
 I can nurture something worth saving.
There is a five-finger scar above my breast.
 There is an orchestra on my neck shaped like your pulse
 from all the nights you held me the way
 you only hold something slipping.
There are 6 states
 pressed like stubborn flowers 
between the last time I kissed you and today,
 but you still feel like a sound caught in my throat.