when you understand love

late at night

when the world is silent and the lights turn down
and my thoughts aren’t controlled by speed limits
or the policing of consciousness
i remember that regret tastes like stale cigarettes and old liquor,
where your hand lay on my hip,
and how your breathing changed as you slept.
as i toss and turn over my pillow,
kicking my covers and wondering where the trains are going,
i recall your drunken stagger as you deny your inebriation,
the appearance of your dimples as you laugh quietly,
and the way your hair falls when you step out of the water.

in the morning

when the toothbrush can’t get rid of the contrition,
the noise of the city can’t drown out the dreams,
and the darkness of the news can’t get rid of our demise.
when the heart aches more than the body of an athlete,
the brain still moves faster than your dream car,
and the skin still misses your touch.