I thought we had already
passed the test
when you actually did call
in the morning
like you said you would
(but I guess that wasn’t
the only promise
anyone could break)

one night
was followed by a second
a third, a fourth, a fifth
and I stopped counting
and started counting on you

communion between bodies
punctuated by
sincere conversations
between bared hearts
I thought we sealed the deal
I thought we signed the contract

Remember that night
we stood silhouetted against the light
as we undressed a little too much?
Went past our birthmarked skin
down to our colorless,
transparent souls
and with no more material boundaries
to hold our substance in
the essence of our persons
the stuff we’re really made of
went off in all directions
all at once
seeking each other until they found it

we were found

and a day lasts only
twenty-four hours
(the sun rises
you have to leave
but you used to come back)
and a month only has
thirty days
thirty-one if we’re lucky
but that kind of spiritual covenant
lasts a lifetime
or shouldn’t it?

So how can you disappear
and fall off the grid
of my life
back into the folds of the
disarray of strangers in the world
just like all the other men
with whom I shared a night?