Love wrung me around her hands
Like a limp nymph
And I was impartial
To her slippery-skinned blows.
For weeks I hung in the stiff suspension
Of parking lot kisses and
Silvery-mooned “good nights.”
Lost in the eye of something between
Her obsession for me and my long-last confessions,
I lost track of when nightfall stumbled
the skin of her thighs into early dawn.
Time became a nuisance
In her clock ticks and the many walls
Her dates pushed me up against.
I’d write my post-grad thesis,
Strung out on coffee and cocoa,
And I mused this love thing
Must be what it feels like
To fall into the abyss of an addiction,
Your brain no longer motherboard.
I’d both lost, and found, myself
Between the invisible matter of this
Thing that began to beat inside me.
Even in my sleep I heard her voice
Calling into the caves between my ears
And I knew she’d began to carve herself
A home inside the walls of my ribs.
I was all at once lost, found, as isolated
And adorned as an aging piece of foliage
In an otherwise uninhabitable landscape.
I was a supernova on fire, spinning in space,
So large I orbited my own moon,
That one-eyed all-knowing specter
And the only soul to know what
all those night rides rolled me into.
Written from a prompt at Wordsmith Studio.