My Voice
Pattern
Pattern
Insecurity shuffles inside my bones,
sifts through my skin,
and falls to your bed, blanketing your attentions.
My gaze settles across the plains of your chest.
I memorize the textures of your landscape, and
the effortless shift of you, beneath me.
I hold each breath, search your eyes for a trend or
change that will signal your departure.
I knew you before,
and I've become accustomed to your pattern.
When you tire of my fluttering fingers
or the stretch of my veins,
measuring distance between us,
when desire no longer lends itself to the moment,
and time lapses our promise,
it is with certainty, I know you will leave here
and just as certainly, you know,
I will not follow.
Mary
Insecurity shuffles inside my bones,
sifts through my skin,
and falls to your bed, blanketing your attentions.
My gaze settles across the plains of your chest.
I memorize the textures of your landscape, and
the effortless shift of you, beneath me.
I hold each breath, search your eyes for a trend or
change that will signal your departure.
I knew you before,
and I've become accustomed to your pattern.
When you tire of my fluttering fingers
or the stretch of my veins,
measuring distance between us,
when desire no longer lends itself to the moment,
and time lapses our promise,
it is with certainty, I know you will leave here
and just as certainly, you know,
I will not follow.
Mary
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Pattern
Pattern
