We used to
Back when the hairs
On our necks stood up
At the touch
Of each other's hands

We used to think we owned this.

So watch me spritz
A new skin
Of perfume
And watch me whiff
Away
Amidst its vapors

At this stage
Waterlogged and drenched,
With pious, half-heart promises
We cannot navigate
This blitz

And it's this point
The rippling edge
The ice beneath our toes so thin
It's
That whim
The threat to shift
That holds us
In hands so stagnant

And the way we
Used to fashion
Picket fences
In our heads
Peonies
Child-rearing
Suburban fantasies--
Faraway
Islands
On surmountable seas--
It's all long-dead

And what's left
The sorry offerings
Are trickled-down
Allegories
On the effect
Of forgetting
To act outside
Your dreams.

And that was all we came to be.

That perfume
was linen
with a hint
so rosy
Woodsy
Deep
It clung
It cloyed
'til I could
Taste it
On my teeth.