In what ways can I pull
And stretch
Or shrink
My body so it feels like me?
What does it feel like
To look
And touch
And breathe something that’s you?
I keep thinking that some day
I’ll look in the mirror
And smile
And they’ll smile back
A seeing smile
A connected smile
Between what’s in the head
And the heart
And the flesh
Not this tentative, unsure curl of the lips
An up curl, or a down? Or both?
Which category is mine
Ours
Yours
Is there such a thing that holds me?
loneliness
Pieces
I am the in between one
a bridge between two others
I will gather all your pieces
when you thought them lost
painstakingly discover them
through long conversations
filled with hair stroking
kissed fingertips, tears
and all of my labour
and once I find all the parts
I’ll glue you back together
Make you see how perfect you are
how perfect you were already
perfect enough for you to thank me
and to float on to the next
and for me, tomorrow
there’ll be another almost-whole
to discover, collect and embrace
but what about my pieces?
The loneliest place.
The loneliest place isn’t one without people
The loneliest place is in your arms
and not in your heart
I spent too long there
because I hoped that you’d meet me