A Sugarcaning

Such a morning in you right now -

Sunrise in your voice.
When I see you, 
I'll be like a berry.
Grow fat in the sun, 
"as if storing sunshine for 
The cold months ahead,” 
as Alexa Weibel put it.
Recently you said to me
That I feel like home,
That you want to come home.
But you are what you eat, or
More accurately, you are
If you eat.
And if you don't intend to keep
Something alive,
Then don't feed it.
Sometimes you give the best 
Of yourself to others.
I get the leftovers.
I'm a safe harbor I guess. 
Go play but then come home. 
Don't forget where home is. 
Is it easy to leave me alone?
I have memories of my 
Days in your sun. 
A new day has begun,

But I'll still take a moment for us

Over a minute with you.

Water on the Surface

Three long weeks ago,
NASA scientists discovered a potentially inhabitable
"Earth-like" planet,
Orbiting around a host red dwarf star;
Temperature comparable to Earth's;
Liquid water on the surface - just like Earth's.

Earth-like.

Perhaps our next planet should be
At least slightly different than the
One we have now.
I'm ready to live somewhere new.

I'm ready for the moments in the morning
When her fingers rove over the pockmarked, lunar-like
Surfaces of my thighs -
Searching for a possibility,
As I orbit dizzily.
She is holding her breath like a team of researchers,
Running a detectability index framework,
Wondering if this is a safe place
To find life.

Still

In the beginning, we'd never have sex on top of the same thing twice, remember?
Her breath would be shallow and pleading.
That was the only time you really needed me, remember?
Right before your body reshuffled itself,
Like a deck of cards.

Several nights ago you told me you needed me forever.
But hey, the beginning still matters, because
If someone handed me a transcript of the last 8 months,
I'd still highlight every word on that page.

She still does that a lot. Reshuffles. I can see it;
She says words that I've heard before
But never in that order or at just that time.
She keeps reminding me about feelings that I'm still only just finding out about.

And hey, there's still space between us.
Instead of watching movies we
Make lists of movies to watch and
Instead of going on trips we
Make lists of cabins to carry each other over the thresholds of and
Instead of sliding fingers into and over and around each other we
Clutch phones to our still heads and slide words into each other's ears
Which miraculously feel similar enough sometimes.

The only time I've felt like the second thing on her mind is
When there was a horse in front of us.
He liked her better than me too,
But I still got to watch,
Which miraculously was enough that time.