the search for places
I can step away from
leads me, wandering
dichotomous with longing
for a lack of it
that comes on strong
atop a cliff edge,
sea below, the nestled
pull toward
a fact about my sternum.
or it happens
when the talk is finished
with the both of us,
as quick as sleep,
embodied language
signing off the deed
that we retreat from, sigh
content with placement,
lips kept speaking
