His views arise from experience, his experience corroborates the views; each seems to authenticate the other. But what are we to take as primary? (Donald Fanger)

A woman with a past. Isn't that what makes us interesting? For men, it's lack of recorded past that proves so fascinating. Women, no. It's the shadows behind us that do the trick.

--Don Delillo, "Running Dog"

Thousand Mile

In general

it will have

me missing

you and eating

beans, but how

would we have it

as so? So as long

as it is like

we are a harbor or

a hand above my

head, you say,

holding a folded

scratch-off or

a leaf,

from a walk

we took a week

ago. Or say we

are a need again

in not wanting

or told the sad

story on the drive

home from the taco

shop on to where we can

go home, strive

and hold onto you,

and you know that

whole feeling that

you've had, summed

in a warm arm

or how we've held

and how we smell

and I wove

it to you, and

we're a different

person to everyone

we know. We

got back a week ago,

swollen, still.

Your body hushed,

strings of ribs to gentle

breasts, neck thick hair

and eyes, steel and certain

lips to mumble dreams at dawn.

I can feel your soft skin

in a rainstorm in a muddy

pool in night. I can feel

you feel my hands, I lift

you with my hips, finger

near your mouth slow curves

placed so near my chest

nestle in the smallest

hairs. We are the weight of

dust in air

and I don't think
we're a different
person anymore.

Ginger candy

wrappers in

my pocket. You

still have a toothbrush

over here.

So good

night, my ankle

swells for you I

wrote this in the dark

and maybe we don't

know so many moods
we have.

I wish you could find

me in my room again.