How Little Was Left Undone

Who else woke beside their ashes? Or were you not there but by the window? A jarred? Beneath the pillow? Where safely your tooth laid? When you were a child who was it you believed? From dusk to dawn we traced images on eyes. Touching skin, he’d pull off my morality. My, I write, for this is me having known neither pleasure nor humility. But I pined for pain, that dying moment when thinking before all else, What is love? It isn’t this. You/us were hysterical, The need to want and feel it now. Unseen we spoke, then and only. We split, and exploring, exploding, we sighed. Traces scaring eyes. You woke leaving. I wake beside her. Body wrapped in dyed sheets. Unemotionally guiltless, I gather someone in pleasure came. Came, then left color, but no mental note. Yet, had he stayed, this bedded woman may have woken with knowing eyes and together figured pleasure out.