You come to me in 

restless hours : face looming 

over – half moon-licked 

& half deep shadow  

I breathe you in – tobacco 

& alcohol, smoke

& fire.  You want a taste

Hold my palm against 

your forehead & say 

“I wish it were another 

way”.  Quiet.  I wake 

pressed up against you 

crumpled : peeling away I 

leave you, in the still 

greyness – brew a pot

of coffee on the hob. Its

familiar sputtering 

smooths out my edges. 

You hold your cup in 

hands that flutter & think I 

don’t notice, but I 

do – we say little 

& the spaces between our 

words are loaded.

I see you out, watch  

your black figure grow small ‘til

it is absorbed by 

snowdrifts. The door shuts 

with a soft click like 

the kiss you leave on my cheek.