saborfly

I resurfaced, the taste of salt and rare coins in my mouth. I moved upward like a swimmer and kissed you properly so I might not be alone. The streetlight poured silver down your chest through the open window and your hair sank pale and fragrant into the edges of my vision in the dark. I could not see your eyes so much as sense them, as if they were familiar stones on a path I only walk when I am in love. I watched the curtain swaying nearby, numb and ornate and rhythmic, now and then touching your shoulder the way I used to wish I could. It moved like a sleeve just before a hand emerges, restless yet un-alive, prophesying in half-