And in the darker hours,
My chest the nest of a skinny baby bird struggling to beat its fragile wings,
I am biting my fist,
In the darker hours I am stranded on my deserted island,
Choking on salt water,
Falling frighteningly in love with the images in my mind’s eye:
You filling the space beside me,
The gentle slopes of your apologetic shoulder blades,
Rising and falling in gentle sleep.
But in the darker hours,
Your presence a ghost,
You still never turn to face me anymore.
I crave your gaze,
To fall into that familiar passion with your cheekbones and eyelashes.
In the darker hours my deserted island is a cold night devoid of your warmth.
I drive myself mad chasing the remnants of your scent in my pillows.
I love you desperately.
I love you devastatingly.
You are always my first choice.