sinking 2

he’s replaced the sink with a high-wire curve.

you mumble sticky words like caramel.

i wonder where slipping hands meet in a dark room

i remember time with you
a sunday early AM or still just saturday.

the whistles of northeastern massachusetts settling upon us
as i struggle to hold your hand.

we tried for hours – thank you for that

we held on. only seconds away from sleep.

i wanted to hold on forever.

lips locking soft
and you left.
yes.

i wasn’t relieved. i was

sliding into another sad sunday with a broken finger like hard hard caramel.

but the sink in the dark pine kitchen far away – yeah, it’s replaced.

brand new in fact. a high-wire curve.

like your neck on my neck
and your hairy cheek against a clean shave.