Microchisto

I stare at you, your back

I search the space in the middle of your shoulderblades

I listen in the break between breaths

I wait for the shift in your heartbeats

there is no place for us.

there is no time for softness.

these things are often messy.

these things are often hard.

we dream malignant dreams

that squeeze our chests upon waking

dreams that keep; dreams that scour

terrors of what we could be

this is the place we stagger. 

this is the place I falter, for you.

this is the place they warned us of.

this is the place I thought I knew well.

I'll push into the shape you make for me

I'll edit myself until I become yourself

I'll curl at the edges

I'll forget who I was

For I cannot pretend to ignore you.

Cannot feign coolness, disregard.

For you are the name I whisper in darkness.

You are the memory I play in my sleep.