para mnesia

naked

the stars light themselves up

one by one, a series of promises; 

bright like your skin 

paper-white, a skin of moon. 

I cannot sleep, the night leaks purple -

it demands to be felt. 

a ritual: I conjure you, 

my soul echoing incantations -

one by one

your ghosts rise from my chest

my fingertips tracing back the path

where I laid my kisses

heavy

like stones.

I wake to find 

bare walls of a room 

bare town unknown

bedsheets untouched.

night - a silent liar 

melted by the red mornings:

red illusions of hope

mornings I gather my bones, 

an arm - glue them on 

to show them

I am whole

while

I fear

anytime 

I might break.

my pieces

will fly: mad birds -

I will never find

myself again.