If I could take the tears that I threw
away on recycled dreams,
and place them end over end, I would almost press my rounded
nails to your lifted cheek, buoyed on the rising moonlit ocean.
I want to touch the glow of you. Ever since
that winter solstice when you struck your spear of eloquence to my pulse-point, I dreamed of
knitting that thread of winks
and laughs. We’d tuck them into the centerfold of our palms, an ache
to feel your breath, my gasp intermingling in our punctuation.
To know that we are separated
by thousands of nations, and bloodied blades of hatred that pierce the knotted hemp and drop
me to the ebbing bottoms sinks me further.
Do you wish to breathe our Frankenstein to bleed
a better word into reality? I can’t read between
the latitude when longitude spans horizons. Desire holds us
to the guillotine, where our necks intertwine in their uncoiling.
Cultivate in distance to make the world
grow closer, to know that the perfection
of our untouchable smiles blots out the lines.