true or not

It's no use. I can't separate these sifted longings from the long answer after your name. I can't turn off the blue movies that play in my blood every time I see your eyes. There are no photographs to tatter, no letters left to send. Every post is past tense, though I play act at calm. I hold you so close that even the distance you keep is gathered in my arms. I would litter your life with secrets. I would ruin your life night by night.

I'm no use. I thread each stitch with razor wire, I stipple my kisses with lies. You would swear by me though I seldom trust my self. The words I whisper, the salt I spill, the grasp of the luckless and the company of thieves: I have left it all in heaps and blunders. Every day wasted and tomorrow certain to never arrive. I would cling to your bitter. I would steal your flowing tears.

It is all lose: from the hours enshrouded to the dreams buried in warm hands and rough kisses, I only offer the surety of regret. The moonlit peals of your fleshed bared and breathless, the sloe-eyed weight of mornings of fresh coffee and bad habits. Folded poems and worn-through oaths. Cooling pillows and tangled sheets. Every passion, every promise, only evidence of my every caveat once we cross. True or not, it is only you that matters. True or not, I won't ever stop saying what you mean.