by L.E. WARD

a lamp lights
                       the back of my eyes

metal heats in my skin         veins
pinned                          to the table

I wake upon your shoulder blade
your breath               within my lungs

a prayer is whispered in     water

our tasks are piled in corners
                                 with our shoes

the sky is close to ground
the wind hunting what has been

                   a star punctures the air –
                          what holds you here?

tell me                          everything
while our breath               is close