searching for the one eyed jesus.

he said he wanted curtains
to live where the light seeped through
but it was already morning against bare window pane
along with the bareness of her skin exposed
she could no longer count the lines that defined her palms
her will lay on a towel
curled beneath the bed
and what if she could complain
tell the sky
and weep like rain
consideration is always considered
but couldn’t the fall free an explanation
never mind the heat of conversation
desert lines up to meet the water
he lined up to meet the words
un-curtained from the threat
his touch cant describe
the neck line
and this is what he gave her
light and morning and skin
and this is all he would give her
she wouldn’t ask for more
couldn’t
because breaking down the moment
that should be taken back
lived too far down the road in front of her
and speaking truth seeped between the night and the day
and breathed in neither
she adjusted herself to trust in occurrence
as he sat
between silence
and agitation gone unseen
mistaking anothers heart beat
for the rhythm of his own
im telling you now
you missed your one eyed jesus