you have no favorite color but all of them

just too derivative

and all the light that once left

is within you.

your body falls like snow,

moves against me like a drift.

I am happy to be stranded by you.

the rip cuts of your palms tell the story

of every felled burl you trained

to be something more useful

than malignant veneers of equal thickness-

how they taught you the craft

of making yourself whole again.

in every timeline

you have sanded my beveled hips

whispered too softly while we made love

respired like sawdust through

every tongue and groove - touched

some part of me I did not know

needed your hands.

___

Lora Robinson is a Baltimore based poet, technical writer, and cat-mom to Shark and Thea. Her poetry has appeared in the Scarab, Sad Girls Club and Cathexis Northwest Press. Her debut poetry chapbook will be published in spring/summer 2021 by akinoga press. Connect with her on Instagram @theblondeprive and Twitter @starsinmyteeth.