He kneels,
hand on my sternum.
I forget how soft you are, he says.
After two days, I forget.
To preserve –
the inclination to.
If I could have,
I would’ve slipped away
on thin legs, become
invisible at the tree line.
Nobody wants their life
to become unrecognizable to them.
I wanted. I wanted to go on
wanting. Is it any different
than any animal want,
to go on breathing
in order to love someone?