breathless

the sky shifts large and roiling, and i fall seasick.

i burn candles, and they drip pale and uneven

across the floors. silence builds us.

* * *

touch the edges of the air and twist towards horizon-line.

want and unwant. you keep promises like hearths,

and flashes of cold, sea-whetted sharp show in my hands.

my hair is wet with rainwater,

and something is underneath my skin.

i mean to say: i am underneath my skin.

may i be dishonest, this once?

* * *

your fingers on my arm are the heat of a wound.

name the monstrous thing and it sinks lifeless,

but i seal my mouth with soft wax. i dig at

the space between my teeth as though i will spit it out.

i said once, allow us our choices.