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
from talk.

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.