How It’s Going to Play Out

your baby breasts smooth in the center
like a salt worn glassy seashell

and if I listen hard enough beneath—

your slow and careful heartbeat

 

I could sleep for centuries it seems

lulled by rain on thick city glass

cushioned safe on your soft and strong

belly

 

close my eyes and dream

of a boy with hipbones like the grand canyon

a playful chin and whirlwind of hair

climbing into your car with excited lungs

 

rocking asleep on your ocean and all I can see

is his slender hand grabbing yours

putting your soft skin on his body

in the backroom of my favorite bookstore

leaving teeth down your back to the places I can’t reach

 

somewhere deep in my nightmare

I am alone with your fists beating against my skull

my chest is red and open

glass shattering in all the places we touched

 

this is how it’s going to play out:

mascara stains on your tshirt

howling for you into my pillow

your back bent and broken

when we have nothing more to say

 

I wake up to a shy sunrise

your lips are babysoft against my forehead

a promise that I’m safe

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