Because you didn’t come to me,
pockets filled with apologies
for all the minor thefts of my time
nor kiss the small secret of my name in close company,
making my ears blush like forest fires.
You never tore the tight night wild
with words you’d never taste
nor read the blush of my skin
and break the yolk of my longing
with your bare and hungry hands.
You were never bold enough
to trek the counties of my body
and let the small seas of your eyes
rock the midnights by my side.
You never kept a small fire burning for me
in the closed cabin of your chest
and you never took me in
when my love was too rich and too big
to be carried by the boats of these lips.
© Keighley Perkins