"hands knees please"

tangerine rolls to my feet,

blessed. 

you whisper in my ear,

"might not be home tonight". 

i smile through the sweet citrus.

juice gets on your old clothes that i wear now.

you last kissed me at winter's dawn, that dark sunrise. 

but i woke up again to you this morning, and these drums

are quieter than your whispered

confession, closure, good-bye.