A necessary shadow

The lace glued to the mason jar-- inside, a flickering

desire. Outside the blue stretches

over and above: skin on a drum-- slick and asking:

             how I once sent words through clouds to you, asked if I could

             write you letters. You never answered and in that silence--

             your answer like an arrow shot into the sky, hit some place

             I keep unseen--

the dog burrows beneath covers, licks the same spot

on my foot over and over-- the way I can never stop

thinking about you-- you, between my ears-- you

when my eyes open I have shaped you over and

over-- you: ghost-clay wedged into crevices of thought,

you bend, warm into wrinkles, into skin-wilting

as is promised by time, I kneed through you

over and over-- your eyes

the color of where that arrow shot, pierce through

the gap of years between us.

******

I have a lover now. She has seen my nakedness

and stayed. I no longer need your

fingers, your breasts, your undivided

everything but still, on mornings, you overlap

and I want to hate you for it, want to burn

you like a letter unanswered but you've done

nothing, you've done everything: you're a ghost/

you exist.