Undo that gaze. We are no longer allowed to
push desire back and forth between glances;

better to cast deadpan stares across the sheets
like shadows: You and I, cast upon each other

like spells, and away from each other as if
there is magic in that too. Unravel yourself

from my belongings. There is no place left
to pack my heart. Perhaps I should leave

something behind: shirt, book, earring, receipt
for things that can be counted and mean so much

less than those that can't. Unmark the lapses
in conversation, fear of the word love, its claws

in my skin as you strain to understand my
silences: What use is talk? All I must say to

you cannot be distilled into words. Unfold
me from you. We are an origami creature

coming undone: my crumpled heart covered
in papercuts, weeps when no one is watching.