you have to actually love me to do something like this
Helena Sai


multi-colored yarn gaze
a sigh caught in the back of his throat
grab another push pin. push it underneath the mass of wool.

a doorbell ripped from creative headspace. stopped.
pale flushed cheeks stark contrast to a grocery bag
"i have ingredients with me"

nutrients given through pressed vegetables
stray balls of yarn drink kale juice instead of unpacking
"you haven't been around in a while"

lips dug past paint cans in search of pots
a single hum, already drifting away
"what are you making"

a barren dining room
reflection of their bodies warped on the linoleum floors
content under the soft light
"willing to try again?"

making a man's eyes a warm void
expression softened
he placed his plate onto the floor
wiped at his mouth, a little peeved
"capture what it is that they love about their partner"

spread his legs out in front of him
uncomfortable, silence expanding
a small dot in the black sweater
"you can't live in an empty house."

for art
stop sleeping on the floor
it worked better when you took advantage of the space
hastily to swallow panic
mess up the stove again
gnaw on his bottom lip
"i have to give you something."

leftover push pins
set to work
a dull thrum of anxiety
"me."

paper and a ring
held to keep quiet
every bit of yarn laid in a single pile
delicate whisper
"but why now?"

this was all falling apart
a problem of perception
pale hand, comforting
a little bit out of breath

–"if i stopped breaking into your house and making you food, would you still want me?"


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