I am two states away staring
at the same picture that hangs on a wall in your house
it reminds me of the last time I saw you
flames in the background.
I am staring at this image
remembering how tired I felt in that moment
when you shifted into shallow
all my limbs aching from confinement
my heart on the floor
torn between the relief
the freedom of closeted love
and the grief of losing you.
Two states away my hands
remember the feel of lust in the dark
away from prying eyes
a secret I could not keep
not for long
your body's press on me
the way I reveled and moaned.
Tomorrow I will leave this state
a steering wheel trapped between my fists
headed back to my life
the one you never inhabited fully.
Is it coincidence that this painting
exists in two different states
or that you attempted to siren song me
back into your bed of lies
or that my hands crave the geography of you?
I have been looking for home
in all the wrong closets
in all the wrong smiles
welcomed more warmly by strangers
than by you, who claimed to know me
or want to.
these two figures
they peer out so full of sadness and regret
I feel they may be warning me
the smaller figures eyes
seem to implore reminding me
"remember what happened last time"
the flowers have nothing to report.