January 10, 2010

wet bare footprints on hardwood floors
sleeping house,
pink toes and mist rising
from my naked shoulder blades
water glasses on bedside tables –
Micah left his just there,
still mostly full,
with bubbles along the edges.
he’s on a plane right now
somewhere over the Atlantic
on his way to Spain
too far away from me.
yet i could swear,
he’s just stepped out for a moment –
he’ll be back soon,
pulling me down into warmth and softness
soft heartbeats beneath my cheek
and gentle hands on my hair.
no, i know i’m only fooling myself.
he’ll call me sometime in the middle of the night
though it’s morning there,
in four days (less than)
i’ll be on my way too
to Paris for the springtime,
to a school i’ve never seen
classes in a language i don’t speak well
an apartment still unrented
with a roommate i’ve never met
in a city i’ve visited once before –
but hey, what is life if you don’t take risks?
and we’ll have Valentine’s day in Paris,
for the first time in months
i’ll sleep with him through the night.


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