When you leave I become

the sea gull begging salt from

from the briny air.

My veins are a winding tunnel

beneath a deep purple sea.

I channel you in the snow owl’s

perpetual call  that  awakens the

sleeping night and the phantom of

your hand at the linen across my hip.

Your shirt hangs  from a closet door

in the buttery sunlight and I become

so small I could slip inside the lining

of your chest against the warm skin

where I long to be.

 

 

art by Anuraag

 

 

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