He looks at me

cross tabletop:

I see

desire

in his eyes.

‘Write about us,’

each brown fleck

says

and I can’t help

but oblige.

 

‘You are a muse,’

and

‘You are unique’

and

‘I can’t believe

you exist’

all are words

I’ve heard before. 

Words to me

And nothing more.

 

I want to leave

this wintry place:

pull up 

roots sprouting

down

before they get

too deep

for me

before I’m

caught up

underground.

 

Wine has since

replaced the blood

surging

through my veins.

‘I always will

disappear,’

I say,

‘I’ll never

stay the same.’

Because

I want to leave

this wintry place:

pull up

roots sprouting

down

before they get

too deep

for me

before I’m

caught up

underground.

 

And yet

he still looks

at me

with desire

in his eyes. 

 

And I sit here

deeply knowing

all these moments

are

goodbyes.