Fragment IV (from The Yellow House)

i returned to her apartment

the one with the crooked shelves
and the small fan

and ran my fingers
through the dust on the windowsill

to feel the burning of steel
to taste the silence of the dying

I returned to look for myself
on a bed long gone

this morning I had thought of something
from that time in my life

where I was afraid of discovering
all that my heart wanted

somewhere between those walls
I can still hear myself crying

in my sleep, dreaming of something
that I would lose before I woke

I want to come home to this again
days of being unmade instead of broken

that night before the abductions began again
when I spoke in my sleep

about the victory that was to come to us
and how maybe this was love

and she kept my words a secret
because she was afraid of committing to something passing

this is terror and desperation
I am losing words like that faith that fled long ago

I need you
I need you to tell me how to say goodbye

to the details that shift shapes like memories
like faces that lit up a dark March night Los Angeles

and the beginning of loss

and how all I wanted
was a moment that would keep me still