Fever Dream

ages, it's been ages

waking up to the same fever dream

it's like your arm is still

threaded through mine

like spun silk

so

breakable

behind my eyes:

sinful tragedy, repeating,

respelling, respilling

like your teacup

knocked

over

. . . . . . .

hot tea

burning my tongue,

but it's yours

and

it's ours

and

we're the same, sometimes,

when i close my eyes

and the sun tells me: lies

.

stepping gingerly over ginger

cuts like roots underneath your

fingernails, connected to

fingers that play the piano for me

or did you?

i've got a toothache, but i

keep feeling it in my chest,

and

the leaves keep rustling and it

sounds like your name, but it's

just raindrops and raccoons, actually,

asking me

how long it's been

until i can open my eyes

.......

youth

reverberating

ribs

beckoning

reckless

hopeless

feverish

dreams

.

but i don't

always

wake up