i've collected words strung out on the floor of languages
of affection that we may never understand of each other.
it feels right.
to want to stay and be held throughout the wintertimes.
in july, when it's time to go home, i will have realized
that my fears are founded.
that i have trouble with instinctually keeping love
over distance
that i may forget the face of the man who handed me honey words
and wrapped his arms around me so warmly
in the march-may apocalypse.
he lives in this moment
loving me in his own ways while i am
living a few months forward when he is no longer with me
now
petrified of severing all the cords and strings
pulling against the weight
of months and months going by
fading and dissipating
will we ever see each other again after july goes by?
