all over

I am not sure how to empty myself of

the love I have for you

Unplug the drain and let it all swirl away,

splashing down my legs and pooling at my feet

It if were that easy baby, I would be dry as a bone

instead of carrying the weight of you around with me

sloshing around inside, spilling out at all the wrong times 

I guess, at some point, what’s left will evaporate?

The air will suck you from my lungs, my blood, my skin

I will try to remember what it felt like, when you coated every fiber and every cell inside me, even as I wished for nothing more than drought 

I guess, at some point, my body will no longer remember what it felt like when you bought me goggles and asked me to go swimming

Or scared me so bad in the shower I screamed until you fell to the floor

Or sprayed me with the garden hose and told me where the gloves were in the garage so I could put them on and pick up the poisonous frogs in the backyard, squish their bodies gently between my hands and marvel

I guess, maybe, the love and heartbreak my body stored will work its way back out

And all I will be left with is a vague notion that I shouldn’t ever let a man do reiki on me

Unless I’m willing to go through the process all over again