night and day

 two streets over

my apartment off Largo dos Penedos

on the second floor 

is dry; there’s no constant barrage 

of black flies

my towel dries overnight 

alone is not lonely

after you

I was never good 

with another body

in my bed

sleeping

morning ritual

she eats faster than I can make my coffee 

then takes my place in bed

that tiny strip along one side 

where she allows me to sleep 

expecting me to squeeze into a snuggle 

while my coffee grows cold on the nightstand

melancholic for the cicadas

everybody’s body

has a rhythm 

has a cadence

has a thump-thump

of a heart beating

of a hum in their ears

of a mind wandering 

melancholic for the cicadas

my heart feels off

and a rock feels no pain

I needed once

perhaps I’ll need again soon

the impermanence of a lover

the depth of knowing 

with a touch and words deep

of a heart’s dreams and remorse 

perhaps I’ll need

the permanence of a companion

the depth of growing

with care and attention 

to life too quick to end

The sense of things

I gave up surviving for

 a fight to live in

a place of 

illogical norms where

the sense of 

things allude me:

a place where

to exist is a chore