adam & steve

every waking moment

panda cars & milky bars

& city streets slicked with rain & soot.

take two steps

eastward, honey---

so your eyes can catch the light pollution.

last night, i dreamt you left me.

i've grown so very tired

of unfamiliar alley-ways & taxis.

the fruit tastes funny here.

my ribs are beginning to show.

oh to see a skyline that i remember vaguely;

to recognize a cloud.

i creak out of doorways on purpose now,

to hear the rusty hinges sing out your name.

when can i wake up beside you again?

inside you,

i speculate, your breath has already

readjusted, regulated

to an atmosphere that's

minus my scent,

meanwhile

the capillaries that are closest to the surface of my skin

tick out the seconds since last i touched you:

one billion, eight hundred and thirty-two million, six hundred and seven thousand, nine hundred and twenty-one . . .

precision

is the motto of the clock known as: apart.

written 4.19.99