oh

with the elbow
in the ribcage
I think of you
and bruise gently.

It’s a bit dark.
colour me your favorite
purple and strike me quiet; blue morning blooming
like a bomb in this bedroom
shelter me
with a spark
from a lighter
you listen to
for the third time
to a poem that sounds like
a grocery list
many months old.

I want to be your rain
on windowpanes
the pitter patter
reminder of safe and sound.

with the blanket
over the lips
I wish you well
for we sleep terribly.