Too little too late

honeybug,

you have a smile like the polished june moon,
remote eyes and reckless momentum.

I wanted to tell you that pleasure is beauty
that it resides in every nook of your body -
the fit of your frail bones, the
shell-like whorls of  your ears,
the sweet apex of your thighs.

We are as untenable as this melancholy season.
Lovely lovely lovely chants the refrain of the rain, whose
white hands leave me soaked and sobbing.

Your words are acts of arson.
I'm covered in third degree burns
the roof's burned down and robins
in my ribcage are singing spring.

It feels so much like the moment before goodbye.

I'll miss my sad girl, her singular voice
ringing out as horror flicks played in a darkened room
and the real fear lurked outside. Remember the first time, how the
earthquake came when we were naked and laughing?
I saw you standing in the rubble afterwards.
Watching the way your hands moved,
I thought you invincible.