Scratch

Scratch

A bandage shuts my eyes too soon

and hushes my wrists and legs

so tight. You tell me to get on a bed

like a cold pool. My nipples perk

against thin sheets, and then, in your

rough hands

                   until I hear caresses

of clock hands twice. My split lips

cannot pucker to say See you, or

even Bye, so I leave only a faint

smile at your door.

        As I Walk

to the station, I look up to the sky

with no moon or Venus: a curt reply.

I want to clip out the empty air

and run my compass to hollow the night

to make a way away from you.