ghost words not said
hanging in the dark between us
all tied up in different parts
they are behind me
shadowed.
eighty species of bird
fly in dust yellow sun
your feet are broken
they twist in your sandals
“they are ugly”
you tell me again
and as you say it
i hear the ghost words.
your soles are faded yellow
the palest pink
blushing into the deepest brown
your toes curve into each other
like fingers
i would like to rest every toe against my tongue
i would like to lie with your foot against my cheek
until you turn away.
i am listening to the ghost words
i disappear into the sweetness under your arm
i burrow
against the edge of you
i go no where.
your face is round
you are still a boy running
your feet are unbroken
you are all eagerness
lucky one between four sisters
you ran your hand up a girls thigh
you entered a new country.
you say “take it easy”
you say “i’ll see you”
you say '“we shouldn’t be doing this”
you say words in a language i don’t understand
you say “you don’t answer my questions”
you say “my feet are ugly.”
but i am listening for the shadows
your stomach surprises me with its roundness
your skin pulled smooth as tin.
i am curled fully clothed on hard carpet
i am holding your hand
you hold my fingers lightly
you will me to go.
i want to inhale you
i want to erase myself
i want to kick and destroy
i want to melt.
i am listening for ghost words
in the corner of your swollen mouth
the small flat toughness
of your ears
the incredible denseness of your hair.
only four times have i seen such perfect fingers
i have never known a body so filled
stretched with so much promise
you smell like my own history.
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