I thought I found loving you long ago

But tonight wary I crawl

To your bed

My bed

With a wine-stained mouth and shaking hands


The sounds of creaking door hinges

Hang in the still blue air

And the dunes of your

Shoulder blades call to me


Your sleep soaked voice murmurs my name

As I trace the moonlit ridge

Of your spine

Moving mountains of blankets

To reach obscured skin


Tonight I learned loving you is knowing

You’re leaving me

But clinging to your

Almost absence

With broken fingers and a dry mouth


Seattle, 2017


(Photo by Eric Toennis)