From Dublin to Seattle, London to Paris, I asked you to tell me something; a story, a memory, a secret, a lie.
I gave you images of my memories in exchange for your stories through posters I tucked in crevices across cities, inviting you to disclose the confessions closest to you, telling me of all the private that lies in between public spaces.
when I asked you to tell me, you told me of love,
you told me of your grief and growing pains,
you told me the story of your own post-mortem and
how many times you said yes before leaving
the bed in the early morning
unmade, confidential, hair a mess.
The sliver of sun breaking through your
blinds stitching your face pink with warmth
Your old sheets and mine
Aching in the empty
I kept your letters, stories, the touch of your ephemeral fingertips
in a box under my bed
In the old bottlecap from your first date
I keep it safe there
I keep you safe here.
Research
