I want to Eskimo-kiss the fuck out of your nose,
Get fancy with your knee caps.
I bought you a window so I’d have a reason
To toss pebbles. I hate every show that doesn’t
Star you, every show where the laugh track
Isn’t your breath before Yes.
This is a listless prayer I send to the moon.
When you are not here I dream recklessly.
And in these dreams my heart builds
Another heart. My two hearts
Are invited onto the ark.
They are swaddled in straw next
To the pandas eating bamboo
In the shape of San Diego.
What is anything without pandas?
My one heart asks the other.
Neither of my hearts know. You would
Know but you aren’t here yet.
You are hiding in the nest
Of a platypus, waiting for civilization
To start all over again.
C. J. Miles lives in Iowa with his wife. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Forage, Star*Line, Amaryllis, and Algebra of Owls. Follow him on Twitter at @cjmilespoet.