denouement

we have clumsy names for one another,

asymmetrical and always

in limbo.

we break nails and split seams--

nothing is plumb, level or

square, just

cracked like a cratered half-moon.

brittle like

dried nautilus shells.

forgotten like easter eggs.

i want certain names

back beneath my tongue, ones

i called when your face was too close to mine.

instead i've started misplacing your

palms--stained like

little glass chapel windows--

from memory;

i gave numbers different names as

those hands slid on skin and

peeled back layers

i didn't know i had.

now i count backwards

to fall asleep,

a disappointing

denouement.