Please pour your gold into my separateness
Or
Is my brokenness
My gold?

They say poetry is just lines
and
breaks

Made like breakfast sausages
Or coffee through French presses

I think poetry
Is the gold we give each other
To fill those breaks

To take that perfect idea and break it in half

It is always the breaking
Where the energy comes–

Maybe poetry is the seduction
So I won’t disrobe all at once

The slow burn
The sizzle

But for you and me
The romance
was always
In our hands
Our thighs

The lift of me
under the thought of
you

We come together
Take just enough
And
leave