1.

it's december and that means
all the calendars are being taken down.
there is nothing in the night, no last
punches to say we made the year what it
was supposed to be inside of wars
of biting our cheeks and gasping
for breath we didn't have and couldn't borrow.

you know better than to be kind,
no mighty god is bearing gifts
or waiting to save those of us
who were never worthy.

and really, fuck you for the comparison.

i can measure the seasons,
the weight of the tone you carry
and how your text is heavier than
your action. and i also know
you can get too busy for missing,
this is something i was taught;
an exhibition on barren ribs
and a bloody mouth.

believe it or not i have seen every season,
just not yours. so i'm continuing to promise
myself at the four corners of the country,
hoping one itch is scratched and i can
meet a face that will see mine smiling.

there is a shadow with words,
this makes me laugh. you
aren't familiar with that type of world
or perhaps even the gesture.
and i don't think you know -
i barely recognize myself anymore,
much less myself inside of you
and we are fading, we always have been.