I want your details

 
 
 
my hands, filled with bones,
can write love letters
or goodbyes
they can grab a day
by the lapels
and shove it into the corner
and kiss it on
the mouth
my ears have held
the whispered truth:
“I love your voice.”
and on a good day I
know exactly what to say
I’ve known when to touch
and go
I get lost driving a car
but I can tell you the
directions
of how to dig deep
beneath the skin, down to
the bones where I live
welcome
here now, spill
your details on the floor
let’s sort through
the old photos
I want your details
 
 
 

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