We sleep on our sides, so that even in the dark I can attempt disappearance.
Outside on the hill, drops of rain fall
quietly and conservatively,
as if with hesitation from the clouds
With your arm over the valley
between my rib and hip
And beyond that hill, not that far from you and i
Is a house now empty and cold
The way it became the first night i slept here
Because what I had then doesn’t exist anymore.
I inhale a deep breath into my belly and try to still
I open all of the windows and smoke out of them
My skin dotted with goosebumps from the chill of the air
and the stress of sincerity.
You ask, so I answer.
as I slip out of consciousness
I think of all the ways I wish that it were different
and I make a silent promise
for the both of us
that I will really try this time.
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