365 Poems – 177 In My Mind’s Eye (Rough First Draft)
In My Mind’s Eye
I imagine that you want to photograph my heart,
and I tell you that if I put my finger tips against yours
you can feel it through them instead.
I crave you like I crave an attic unexplored for a century,
but all you offer is another frost. I frame the quiet slaughter
of one more day that could have been spent fucking in tall grass,
then running into a storm, arms held high.
I imagine that you stop and watch me run.
And run. And run. I imagine that you never catch up.