No Title In Sight [For You Who Doesn’t Need One]

It was her walking away
Her tugging on the bottom of the back of her shirt
On the seam that barely covered her / cheeks
Reflecting the wavelength stretched to whatever planet she uses to sleep /
To be in her space
To be that seam / that wavelength from her face / that planet
I want to be Mars when it comes to you / Venus
Sometimes / sometimes Mercury
Pluto when we sleep
We talked about the stars
But not about the distance
We talk about everything but not about the pending distance
The walking away we do
The tugging on pieces of strings we do
We do what planets do
We get so close then go so far
We circle back and reach for each other from two ends of a universe we built on a mattress

It was all in that walking away / I
All in that tugging of the shirt to cover the parts of a planet I’d already planted flags on
All in the cool of that morning / those unpolished dusty floor boards / those
Kitchen tiles beneath my feet / the cool of that knife in my hand
Cutting potatoes / cutting
That look to that hand tugging / pulling strings
All the way from Pluto

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