I used someone else as a placeholder for you when I started writing this;
walking home alone at 3 AM
all the bars on Saint-Laurent doing last call
I breathe easy, knuckles cradling
keys, smoking on the sidewalk and promise
that this is yours
and yours only, my love,
  my love,  my love

slow traffic on Mont-Royal
streetlights humming / luminous waste
and me, kissing
consecrated concrete
(tastes a million times better than weed or anyone’s bottom lip ever could)

I love you for your bikes and brick walls, for
the 80 running at some ungodly hour and warm bagels in paper bags and
yr tongue
foreign and romantic and cursed
to never adhere to the roof of my mouth

I love you for the lovers you leave on my doorstep
(for the lovers I leave at their doorsteps)
(for every boy with a fine arts degree who I will laugh about six months from now)

For the cross on the mountain
For the water below

For nights like tonight where the moon sits in Aries
I love you
I love you
I love you

Mouth meets space between
bottom rib / top of hipbones
meets cyborg surfaces and
(me)      Mediation
Meets strange delineations
Meets skin as a site of loss

the body is built on precedent/passivity
You tread minefields with yr
             tongue