1
You tell me you find god in the
way Sunflowers shift towards
the sun, but I find him in the
way my eyes and hands always
turn to you.
2
It took you twenty-three years to
finally find me and there are days
when I resent you for this.
I’m
sorry.
3
I do not recall any of the versions
of myself that existed before I first met
you.
I do not want to fill in the blanks
in my memory.
4
I have written love-letters to
every single hair on your head,
to every single skin cell on
your body. It is still not enough
to show you what I feel for you.
I know nothing ever will be.
5
In a world where eyes exist,
you say I shouldn’t even have
to speak. But there is so much
I want you to know that I don’t
trust my eyes to tell you.
I want you to know.
I want you to know just how
much of me you’ve healed.
6
You and I, we made religions
out of tasting one another.
(Lover, mercy me.)
7
I want to scream “I love you!”
at the top of my lungs from
each and every one of this
godforsaken city’s rooftops
but instead,
I am writing this
poem.