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.