Favorite

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I feel like a stranger in my own bed

When I don’t wake up by your side

To the smile in your eyes,

the whisper in the way you trace every ripple in my spine

like the binding of your favorite book


Caressing fine print with tender movements and tempting looks

Meandering my hips and thighs, like

you’ve thumbed through these passages before

under quilted comforters and moonlight


Haunted by every past impasse

Down every dog-eared corner of residual horrors

Collected in the dusty corridors of your consciousness


Congested consciences

How we’ve conned our senses into confusing the unavailable for more valuable


Chasing after sunset thieves

Insatiable greed which pocket picks the beauty out of everything

Unseen efforts festered in the boils of what you once thought was love


It’s tough

Feeling like nothing you ever do is enough

Scared your next romance

Could be another chance of bad luck


I’m not a gambling woman, but

You got me putting my prayers into pots of gold

Sparking four-leaf clovers under a rabbit’s foot

Hanging from my rearview

Funny how looking forward finally revealed you

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