who knew sitting up was so hard

pushing against the weight of the moon and its oceans on my back

who knew my limbs could feel like

faded broken elephant’s tusks, full of water, unliftable

who knew the barest memory of your thumb on my skin

a velvet flutter of moth’s wings

could scoop out my heart, leave me with nothing but ache

and banish me to my bed until the pain fades

retreating behind its wall, leaving nothingness in its wake

and a whispered longing for your hands in my hair