The Silent Kiss
At dawn,
you graze my face
tracing my jawline with your thumb to say:
“It’s nice to have someone here for once.”
I should know better than obsessing over men
whose attention doesn’t need begging
stitching myself into bedsheets
meant to be left half empty
but I guess you just get me.
If home is a body,
I already sense aftershocks
self-inflicted eviction setting in
slipping away half asleep
dreading the inevitability of leaving.
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