in the same exact outfit

the way the neglect of your
intrusion is
fondly recalled
lost
bartered for
offers rescinded is
almost why

i remember you fucking my hand in
the cab and lips parted and the
stretch of gauzy blocks at
dusk and a smile beneath another
smile emerging in the smoke of
your hesitation

and promises loosely shaken from
provisions and cinnamon hued
skin and freckled and
pink and
lost
tentative defied ultimatums
and this
is almost why

stray on my canvas painting shook out
lines
argued as profound
travelling always at nights and in
them and at
them bulletproof or
isolated and as them walking
me into my own chapped mouth
rubbed smooth on you and

abandoning medicinal escapes at
the brink of
exhaustion is almost
why
now
three nights of dreams of you wake
me and
puncture my lungs


stopping each
other pausing
me quietly and

your interruptions don't
resonate any longer and
your doubled smile doesn't
fit in my hands anymore and cuts
them deep and your curvature doesn't mean
shit
again and the city isn't colored
green or
brown or dark brown or dark brown
reflecting anymore


missing the nothingness
the rank dissolving occurrences
where i
found you and
you and you and at
times i am creased
disheveled (and you)
bold and
denied
proud and suspicious
yammering heartfelt in the ears of
cynical associates or cynical at
stunned gazes never
quite
fucking
right is
almost the reason we continue
to meet