i'm tired

a glockenshpeel says welcome to sunday, night owl
my mother says from inside me "twenty more minutes"

my head is hot and my fingers are curled to the keys
my mistakes are well known to the walls who listen

I don't even know anymore
I love you from the soles of my feet to the tips of my ears and to the brim of every innard
I love you from my aorta and valves, taxed so much they ache
I've loved you since you remembered me a november ago
and you love me like a sister

I love you from the phalanges in my right hand to the phlanges in my left
I love you from the end of my hooked nose to the last feather of my wings out back
I love you from my prefrontal lobe to whatever lobe I've got in back
god, I love you for your theism
and I love you for your words and I love you for your hands
and I love you for months of not seeing you after weeks of being close
I love you for your dancing and I love you for your words

but only anarchists are pretty, right?
The rest of us are sisters
so you can't dance with us
or you do, but don't mean it

I love you until February
where we'll see what I say, Savior
we'll see what I say