the sound of unspoken language
felt like a delayed catastrophe.
I wanted abstract things from you
wanted them to come into my body
like a northern magnet
crashing into its south.
The full moon
cast our shadows across the bedroom floor,
illuminating the empty space
while you slept through my tiny psychic death.
I tried to cleave the unspoken
from the abandon,
drown it in letting go,
summon the complicated mystery
of our intersecting hearts.
I held my flesh together,
let our fate be an unsolved riddle,
fell asleep with the ominous hollow
that had snuck in from my childhood
beneath my pillow.