skin, sweat, oil,
the back of your neck,
the top of your head,
where you pool into little crevices.
moments of intimacy i can never take back
where
you teach me more of your names.
beyond clove, vanilla, and wood,
there’s smoke,
there’s blood.
i want to ask you
if you will hold me
by my shirt collar and let
me sink myself into you.
i want to know if you will
pull me up when i start to
drown. i want to know
if you will push me further down.
and when i am showing you
every skeleton in my closet
every pit of tar on my body
i want to know if you will cover yourself
in incense,
or the tang of metal.
my bed smells like me again
and that is the worst part of it all