FALLING FROM A GREAT HEIGHT
i miss the salt in the summer
coming off her skin,
i miss the shape
i'd always be in
after getting drunk all night
and she smelled like a home cook meal
which i didn't cook her often enough
maybe that's why she always feels like home
because now i'm feeling homeless.
i beg for her time
like quarters on the street
and when she can't spare change
i wonder what that could possible say about me.
i feel not only helpless
but so very weak and whatever peace
i find with sleep...is lost
on the indentations
between my sheets.