Hoping to find some writing,
green and cutting into open palm,
I sit with incense struggling in its float.
Waiting for unexperienced expectance,
for winding desires to sneak past my door,
instead of my roommate.
It sneaks in with a rubber band
around your wrist, you won't explain.
It continues with cat creeping to burning stick,
wanting to bat its musty fog
and my need to watch.
Desire came without you,
in a barely insulated room with walls too white,
and the fading of your scarred smile.
At times I doubt you were ever there,
your presence soft beside boulders of a bar.
At times this room holds you more than a drink on the stool
with another man reaching around my hips
ever could have wished.
Worn flannel blankets are warming you to me now,
and my mind wants to latch you
like a loop to a scarf that I made too big to wear.
Please say you can't
because I wont call you anyways,
and this room is safer cold and bright,
than the darkness I would let you warm.