just before the kiss
push me back into the world
like ghosts do
when the living get too close
the scent of skin
too much
they push away
because they long too much
for what they’ve lost
they want you too stay
in the world
you because
you don’t want to hold
what will be lost
the white of a waterfall
the moon hiding half its face
storm in the earth
night bright
with the peeled back
bellies of leaves
begging for the blade
close the gate gentle
make it chime
close it like a delicate thing
as if just leaving
looking in
upon a sleeping child
isn’t that how hearts
should be handled
footsteps made faint
by grass
no knock required
no doorbell
rattling the rooms
just the soft cry
of a rusted hinge
I wonder if the candle
is sucking smoke
back into its body
I’ve been out watching moths
wings made from buddleia petals
brains the ghosts of embers
edges still lit
threads a fuse
the scars from our dreams
sew us together
rings made from rainfall
curtains need the breeze
to touch the room
a little more
I sunbathed
in your shadow
the poplars are still
silver shivers inside
ripples repeating themselves
within the pillars
of their trunks
you’re the last light of the year
the late light of the day
that touches the old fire
that still clings to the tips of the trees
in my haunted park
don’t know how
to write about you anymore
I’ll let silence sing
your songs shriveling
to scent