Why I’m Not Where You Are

by Zachary Caballero

Because I spoke soft to you in the morning /but your mouth hit mine like snooze /leave, leaves loosely left behind like /lips split open/turning my body/ into a fountain of come and find me/ because you never came and found me/ because wind currents spoke to my feet/ until they fell asleep and I could not feel/ where they were taking me/ because when I reached for you/ and your glass-blown, smooth and hot skin to kiss my hand/ you let your body turn to sand/ because people are not pivot points/ not the front of buildings with doors revolving with the sun/ because even if I rose with you/ my heart is still sleep-talking/ I reverberate but nothing translates/ language is not so absolute/when every letter is filled with loose change/ pennies that slipped away/ careful copper-talker, when you don’t shine/ no-one takes the time to ask why/ because house-guests don’t always get breakfast /because hunger is hardly enough reason to stay/ because ache is a place between your face and my face/ and there are miles of highway pretending to be asphalt/ but nothing that smooth is true/ because you are beautiful and true /and that is so new to me/because all my grief grew into a pomegranate/and you didn’t want to pick me apart /because if you asked me to stay/ I must have missed the transmission /because when love was said/ your mouth turned vacuum/ nothing was safe / not my name/not all this tenderness/ I saved for you/ because you can’t be angry over something you aren’t willing to ask for/ and I’m not willing to ask for you to choose/ because the sky doesn’t ask to be blue/ the sun doesn’t choose to come up/ because love is true regardless of choice/ and that is the triumph that puts lumps in our throats/ I’m not where you are because when/ I pressed my head against your chest/ there was no thump, no wild rumpus/ no chorus that played, no slow song/ that made us sway/ and what am I supposed to say that?