transparent people

we both long for more than our rations allow

And to be truthful, my hands still tremble when
they imagine touching you, and quickly turn to
tight, balled fists when I picture another girl
holding your heart like I did. I grow violent,
crack my knuckles and envision another's bones
snapping, not our passion.
It's been difficult lately trying to swallow our pride.
This love requires more compromise than we
each can provide.
And to be honest, I climb into a creaky four-poster
bed each evening and hold a shirt still lingering
with your scent like a lifeline, like a buoy in this
sea of blankets. I am alone in this vast body of
water, clinging to the notion that you'll pull me
towards shore or we'll sink together.
Our skin is stained with the color of last
summer, and dear, I'd give anything to have
the hunger we felt for each other then back.
We're both starving today. We should eat.