two more weeks of us

Not the day i had pictured

No surges of color or swirling visions 

Not a winding adventure through town

With hands clasped on the 

Third day of Portland snow

We didn’t hold hands because it wasn’t so slippery that I needed your support 

And reaching out just because I wanted to didn’t feel like a good enough reason

I paused by a frozen camellia and whimpered

We drank broth from glass mugs on Belmont

Sunshine and turmeric yellowing thick

You didn’t finish yours and later as we start fucking you say your stomach is upset

I think its my fault because I suggested the broth

You left shortly after you came

Trying to beat the sun home

I make an attempt to lean into the discontent

Sink into how it doesn’t feel as good as i want it to 

So that later 

When there is no more us

I won’t only think of thanksgiving morning

How right it felt to wake up with you 

Wrap my skin in your wool blanket and wait for you to hand me a breakfast sandwich 

Sliced in half and ajar

Yolk oozing out

Let it run its course 

Let it harden and dry

Soon there will be no more 

Soon I will smell you drip out of me for the last time

Can we never say never? I ask

Bargaining, mostly with myself