I wake up in the middle of the night
and I text you things like “why aren’t you in my bed?
come eat a bowl of oranges off of me”.
I don’t know what this means.
I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.
Something about you and I in bed
with sticky fingers
and wet mouths
is appealing to me even in half-sleep.
Maybe oranges are a metaphor for life.
Maybe I still don’t know how many seeds
I’m gonna find in you.
are just supposed to mean summer heat
because I’m sick of all this cold, cold, cold.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Maybe the only thing that means something
is that I am always waking up in the middle
of the night and reaching out to you.
You with those warm hands.
You with that wet mouth.
Excerpted from The Dogs I Have Kissed.