Glimmer (041819)

You give me a glimmer of hope

And I do not believe

It is false hope

Your hands linger when they shouldn’t

Where they shouldn’t

If you’re a little drunk

You’re more honest than you intend

You said you believe in me

I believe you – you were drunk

I thought about hugging you

And you hugged me

As if you knew I was thinking it

We speak without saying words at all

Your eyebrows-

And I close my eyes

And you’re right – I know

You tell me everything

When anyone looking in

Would’ve thought you were silent


Pine-cones: the most legit
form of romance.
Whether you found it
in the backyard of your childhood
or bought it cinnamon-scented
from a store.
And books
and thoughts of books.
Eyelid kisses
and awkward goodbye hugs.
“We good?”
and two arms around me
at some odd a.m. hour.
And when you finally fall
from the pedestal
I put you on,
what will I see?
Will I still believe
it’s romantic?
When you smack my ass,
trace my curves,
brush your cold feet against mine,
place a hand on my sleepy back
and tell me about the other girls,
thank me for waking you up
to take her to work?
Will I call it love?
Or abuse?
Please don’t fall,
that way I’ll never find out.