often, late
at night

i wait for you in
the corner of
my bed

as though you’ll
show

and guide me
by the hand

over to an open
window

to stare down
the moon together,

although i know
better.

in
shyness,

i’ve turned down
your hand,

in
resistance,

i’ve guarded my
island

and watched as
you circle

secretly wishing you’d
wash up on
shore,

in
shyness,

i’m lost on
land.