You think garbage is made pristine by my tongue

Yes, there is something absolutely aching in your presence.

I act in a voice clotted with self-dissatisfaction.
There is a room with kind and subdued painted walls, it might be
The office of some doctor we’d both been seen by, with the pretense
Of gorgeous facilitation: the momentary
Release in small packages towards the figment of family--
It’s there and all too unpracticed and dissatisfactory for what I want you to have.

I’ll try again.

I’ve seen you on the bridge, over the river, through
The stilted environments we’ve both grown up with fictionally, yet still strive for within our minds.
I see you behind the hedge, lovely apparition of what we both could potentially be.

Funny, we live like such creatures of habit, but what is this
That loads my hands down, my vision of you--
Sulking against a kitchen cupboard, with all the strings thrown out and the
Bright contours of your face still crying out.

Do you hear the slow movements of a dolorous summer turning into fall?
With the caked-on histories of our separate inadequacies?
This is the way we speak, after the deception of our histrionic selves fade.

In nothing we sit, nothing but the love of what’s past and our mutual cares.

I would overcome your god but he talks to me too. It’s seductive, and all I want
Is to run away, take you with me. We’d go to the Cape and sit an inch in the water,
With no one around, shriek at the horseshoe crabs and grab at the hermit types, and take tea for cheap
In the lovely, re-done Victorian house down the street. And the scones and sandwiches would be delicacies, And we’d both adore them with no afterthought at all (I’d walk with your for hours, show you things).

I imagine you in this small piece of my memory. I feel you belong there with me, beyond
The harsh exhaust of needed personal activity, needed for the observation of honestly
Superfluous people. Zhalih, I wish I could take you there.
I wish I could go back there, honestly, but do you know? (as a side thought)

That you always hold the space hostage, leaning against the counter or even attempting
To make yourself comfortable atop a porch-fence pillar, before you even try to scoot over.
The self-inadequacy you feel does nothing to dissuade the viewer from perceiving the beauty that you are.

I look at you and it makes my heart warm, because you are one of the only people I’ve ever known who deserves to be so beautiful.