Answers

You are
the softness of flour
sifted silver
tarnished
by the questions plastered
in bones

white with longing,
your fingers dance
in my open palm
I feel the cool, complete
warmth,
like the breath
of a roar

you are
a criminal dying
to be caught, repentant
only for the love
you never spent
the lives
you never touched,
and I
remember only your face,
covered with closed eyes, tired
of asking

I have lived my life
pretending
to write
this.