9

to see you in the morning—
you, your hair unwashed,
smell still tearing at my heart—
beautiful, devastated,
the way wet asphalt glows inside the night
but still so dull from all the rain
streetlights flashing, signals flaring,
many the ways that you might go
will you take me there, once you awake,
or leave me caddy-cornered on your cross-streets?
with breaths that move your body like your curtains soft,
breezing right in through your windows
dreams etched inside your head forever now,
with no way out except the ways you love
how do birds sing from branches with a voice like yours,
but not from sheets so heavy with a love well-worn?
maybe you'd hear if you could only listen,
maybe you'll see once you wake up—
i'd rather be heartbroken