sâmbătă, 11 noiembrie 2017


Once I gave you a present with a note that said "you won't let go, i won't let go"
And you didn't. You've always come to me, even as a dream, in my head
I remember conversations we never had
I see you in places we've never been to
I remember you in hands that don't resemble yours, but that I hold just the same
I lean towards your shoulder in cinema seats,
But I always stop in the middle when I remember where you are
And where I am.
I always stop in the middle.
Words like "I love you" never unglued from my lips again
It's like they're stuck there, just like your mark:
Three identical moles on our left arms.
And people catch me groping in the dark
When I become afraid
And ask them to look at me when I'm in their bed
Because I sometimes fear it is you I feel then
And her name you call in my skin

I always stop in the middle.

No other someone is here
It is only two people, not four
That is what I tell myself every time
But it is always four hands in my mind
Scratching my body
Violently, for a grip of another's scent;
There are always three people making love
And I'm the unnecessary fourth
A replacement
No one loves
But uses to call back a ghost
And serves my body like an Ouija board.

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