She loves me better when I’m gone

I wanted to write it down with the chapstick on my lips and the softness in the words from her forgotten kiss. My fingers traced her body over poetry the sun expelled; stopping only to retrieve remains in the wisdom she selfishly withheld.

I wanted to write it down with the moisture in my eyes and the mist of whole creation when roaming the open skies. The drone of swift dissension made the thought of your procession waiver in my mind. And I can’t help but wonder why

I keep on burning
I keep on the burning up the shyness…

I wanted to write it down with gallons of gasoline and ignited cedar matches burning the space between what is and what can never be:

I wanted to write it down with wounded knees and open sores like a lighthouse guiding strangers to the welcome of her broken shores: The necessity of beaming takes captive in my unchained heart- where moments turn to hours like eternity spent miles apart.

She loves me better when I’m gone.