isles (6-4)

scottiehughes:

if there’s one thing
the past five months
have taught me it is
how to flat-fold my
hands into looking
back silently, and

try to forget you in
uncrossed and crossed
legs on someone else’s
lawn; this absence is
still corroding the edges
of hems once fingered,

chins once lifted, a look
once lit up in a flash of
innocence (which had
tasted like honey tea late
at night before you left)
and no matter how quick

I pound across asphalt
with carelessness in
between my teeth, I
still find this hole in the
floor of my heart where
your anchor used to be