i wake from your deep pocket
to the shallows of your eyes
drive you between seashore homes
by the ruts along the sky
tuning your wheels to the places
where photos leak motion-blur
crossing the country mapped in
your mind’s skin as we defer
to magnets welded in my fingertips
which almost make them seem real:
the receipts from last adventure,
the mutual hearts we set out to steal.
the shadow’s price keeps on climbing
our ecstacy’s ladder, and you keep forgiving
that feeling of being wanted, but –
i fill in blanks for a living.