Et Vull.

A lazy moon hangs over the city.
Grey on grey.
We play hide and seek in the storm.
The kids and me.
A chronic stomach ache.
A fuzz in the sluggish head.
A tremor with every step.
The bag is open and waiting.
Clothes creased from being
packed and unpacked
several times over.
Time spent in a room
locked,
hushed voices
expressing desire..
how I remember your body,
your breathe on my shoulders,
your smell.
Yes, aunt, I'm meditating, I need some space.
This is a full moon prayer.
Yes, I'll be done soon.
Et vull. Te quiero.