• Lena Drake

A matter of perspective

Updated: Nov 8





Somewhere between my foot on the porch

and your hand on the door

I remembered.

How steep the walls of the Tour Montparnasse appear

when you're just beneath it.

Ants in the shadow of industry.

Iron Sky.

I couldn't knock--I reached for the bell

you beat me to it

always one step ahead

with my mouth around your name

around the tips of your skin.

Your house is big with no furniture

endless floor and walls and floor and walls.

I carry the hard nights

they are deep and discovered.

You carry the joy

a matter of perspective.

Do you remember me as I am?

I lean against your empty wall

or as you wanted me to be?

You said we had to stop

meeting in the most romantic cities in the world

but flights to Paris are cheap

and The Palace of Versailles

it's candy

when you're not.

My toes stretch across the wood

I breathe in your space

the space between us

like I'm unwelcome.

You need somewhere to sit

or else more people to stand.

Let me

deny you

to understand you

wanting what isn't there but

I am your freedom



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