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