If Not But for the Stars
i somehow ceased to amaze you,
and now i dig round in the aftermath,
looking for my little hairbrush–the one
with the bristles like your face on my face.
remember? you were all vibrant, thriving
and pushing and striving. you hungered,
and you hungered for me. i blushed, all
piqued, and responded rather kindly.
and i let grow as tho in a womb words that i
kept private, and with a shaking hand made
out our resemblances with black ink, and
shagged brushes. you drew them out of me,
one line at a time, while i lay in the shallows
barely aware that i breathed. but i can not
draw you to me any longer. i cant even
draw you. now the nights are longer,
they call for a little bravery.
Bree aka zlee zlee