sometimes only when i see your eyelashes or i am washing my face in the bathroom mirror, i draw my breath through your perfect nothing, your fleeting lips. sometimes only when i have learned this song for you and when i sleep the night through even pardon the birds for waking me from a vision of your cheeks at my fingertips, sometimes only when you are music i play freely and the apartment smells of muffins and our mouths are purple, sometimes i remember the story of an elderly boy, lonely beneath the pile, rest my legs on your legs, pass you smoke from my mouth, patient as patience can be.
