As in a half-sleep consciousness
a bonsai too long gone untended
I shuffle from slumber to subway to desk
from bed to chair to back to bed
and wonder at my hunger
Why can’t these words hold the order
and leech-bleed out the remnants
of desire and memory
Scents waft away with calendar flips
but the fitted hinges of our limbs
left too many lingering tremors behind –
My love, my love in the rearview mirror,
I can’t believe I’m still thinking about you-
-r skin and heels and hair