slipped through her
on the way down
to the tub – pulling,
frozen calcium nails,
parts missing, disposed of,
the skin peels apart separation,
revealing fresh wounds.
this dialogue singular –
for piecing together a new arrangement
of living. we living
creeping around a past that
will not converge with a now.
somewhere in-between the laces of
old shoes lie the scars of days
spent traveling away.
who knew away would become here.
in this place,
from down this low
among scattered tangles
I wonder how closeness can be mixed with distance,
how your touch can warm and chill
like the dirty water I spend
combing with a brush I wish you’d