Poems, etc.

dreams as brittle as glass. or maybe it’s me: thin and fragile,  leaning hard into my memory’s windowpane. you and i  are out by the pool, counting stars. my heart’s a chlorine-soaked pearl. you turn to whisper in my ear but i can’t hear thing from where i am. where you are.  you look so old, so much older than you should be. your lips on my ear tickle like tall grass; fog snaking between pool  chairs. fog of my breath distorting our already far away bodies.

the thrill of a thousand doves  all flying up at once. your hands around my throat. is this sin or singularity: the red of blood on a white, white wing. your rage,  licked away, clean as a dinner  plate so when i look down i see half bruise, half reflection. i miss you. i dread you. sometimes i am you,  it seems, only i’ve never been  able to land.