LYING

She has taken her clothes off
(the tease stripped off from strip).
I forget to watch.

She crawls into bed
on all fours and lies down.
Her breasts heave on either side.
The soft bed rises like bread
towards the small of her back
(which never touches the ground
whenever she lies).

My palms have held her there.
And someone else’s.
He is a loss she spent years
removing herself from.

She has tried to forget me too,
I know. I could never forget her.
She forgives me too easily.
And one day she forgave herself
and stopped.

Her navel arrests my gaze –
the hollow under a plant
where water may collect.

She turns to look at me
her neck muscle rising efficiently into a ridge
all the way behind her ear. So taut
it yearns to crack like a whip
this carefully grafted moment.

I tell her she doesn’t look a day
into 30. She points under
her eyes mournlessly and says
“It shows here. Look.”

I lie
naked next to her till
morning.

She exhausts my eyes.

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