There was nothing to stop me from disappearing

into a trail of bread crumbs

until you flung out a dragnet of knuckle bones.

A snowflake’s down settled over the bone meadow

beneath my skin. I was never looked at like I was moon,

merely tossed over left shoulder

that lucked into being a star, into dying

in the backhand wishes.

Your kisses flipped copper pennies

against rough baseboard of tongue till I blushed

an orchid’s frail bruise. But lover, my heart is hard;

I fear its vessels have toughened into gravel streams,

and there is no space for you. Stake your claim

on my freckled landscape and call it discovery,

call it conquered, fight your way in.

For you are the first man to leave your footprints behind

on my bedspread like you really meant to return.