When you leave I become
the sea gull begging salt from
from the briny air.
My veins are a winding tunnel
beneath a deep purple sea.
I channel you in the snow owl’s
perpetual call that awakens the
sleeping night and the phantom of
your hand at the linen across my hip.
Your shirt hangs from a closet door
in the buttery sunlight and I become
so small I could slip inside the lining
of your chest against the warm skin
where I long to be.
art by Anuraag