Stephanie Martin

I need you when Monday rolls around and you put on that suit you hate to a job that no longer fulfills you.

But there is something about the dark spaces in the sky, where the light of the moon doesn’t touch the dark velvet drapes. They draw out the words that harbor under my ribcage.

Love was fading out of our veins and poured onto different paths with different time zones and currencies.

Wearing your coat, I let my skin feel the weight of your world, layer after layer. I breathe in your familiar smell, a mixture of cigarettes and coffee, and feel the knots inside me loosen.

I don’t want you to know that I carry the weight of wanting to be something extraordinary, but am too fearful to move forward.