still

I.
holding onto
the breath I should have
used
to tell you

your words
paint upon my monotonous sky
a crescent moon
spilling
fog onto skyline’s jut

but I wait

exhaling so softly
water doesn’t
know


II.
in case you missed the way
my hair
insinuated itself

and don’t recall the taste of rosemary

I’ll untie me
from your cerebellum

reminders are
forthcoming

here
I
am


III.
nothing to do
but condense comfortable conversation

heat

pull the moist
leaving

essence