Intimate

small moon shaped burns
cigarette kisses
speckle your chest bones
like maroon love making
caught in barb wired bedframes
dig your nails into
my ribcage now there's so much
more I have left to show you
you haven't yet kissed
my tree root heart strings
or taken in the dark
parts of my marrow

singe my skin again
and maybe one day we'll see
a spark in all this smutty air
but mostly I watch the moon
when you sleep I couldn't
look you in the eye anyway
something about the way we twist
our fingers into one another
is so violently cavalier
like laughing at our own
pity, we're petty enough
to half-believe that not
being alone is good enough

I think next time I'll wrap
my own skin around me like a
towel hung out to dry hang me out
from the clothesline of your
spinal vertebrae maybe if I
can't be in your head I can
support it and maybe if you
can't be in my limb basket
you'de at least know I
never wanted to wonder
if you lie awake avoiding my
eyes the way I avoid yours