Still Water

you are river water that smells like fish.

you are mildew that grows on canoes.

today i looked through my closet,

and found your things, the things i kept that

smelled like you.

today i saw how fluid we were, or how fluid everything is,

or just how quickly we go from white rapids

to still water. and i am a fish

who feeds at the bottom

of our nostalgia.

i pucker my lips, i flutter my gills.

i have spent months running away from you,

but today i wanted to smell you,

so i smelled the things that smell like you,

and you smelled sterile,

like cloth.

Hot Water

You know when you are running water for a bath, hot hot water, and you have your hand in the stream, and it becomes so hot that it is almost cold against your skin? And how ice can be so cold that it burns, like frost bite, how it starts to feel like fire? That is how I've felt about you lately. I thought about your feet, the way you dance down the stairs, and the water was so hot that it blistered. Please don't cry when I tell you I have hated you lately. It's just really hot water. Unbearably hot water.