The Pill

The Pill

As the midnight rain

washes away the heat of the day

and mixes with salt on my cheeks,

I think about the nights of lonely silence

shared in each others’ arms.

If I broke through the walls

you erect in the daylight,

maybe that embrace would be truer,
this kiss would be deeper,
and passion would flow

out of mutual adoration

and not obligation.

But there is no comfort,
because every time I see you

the words get caught in my throat –  
an unmarked pill too large to dry-swallow:

one tiny thing that could save or devastate
if I only knew what it was made of -

For if you desire to kiss, to speak,
if you would let me see you,
one moment of staring into your eyes
is all I need to see through the haze,
to sober my mind,
to know if you will be the one to bring relief
or another toxin to my being.

Instead, my spirit screams while my body relents,  

my eyes gaze into the night instead of your soul,

and my hand clutches the pill

until it dissolves in the warmth of my skin.