i think of you in waves. not always a slow tide, giving me time to take back all my things. i don’t regret leaving my heart out for you to snatch with your strong currents. dragging me back to that forever foreign language, where skin speaks to each other in cursive footsteps. i too, miss those summer nights and earning my winters rights. just like our love, an abyss. deep, cold, volcanic. i do regret not tasting the liquor off your teeth once more, the vodka told me all your secrets. i’m sorry i didn’t allow you to tell me more.
d.d.rivers “from: Lenard, with love”











