If this were any other day. And it isn't. I'd want to sink into the bath. Like drowning myself in your Sake smile. Until I forget that I am in love with your engine grease smell. Caught in the bends of my knees, afternoons, when you're away. And the only map that's been written about how to turn myself into we gets lost in the wet fading carpet foot prints. I only wish that your fingertips never tasted bitter. Until I forget what I used to be before I remembered who I am. And all these limbs like dry grasses blaze. Drive Out the Light. The Smoke. The Burnt sugar kiss rising. Into Ash. Luxuriant. Fading. Like memories of me. After the storm.