eulogy to aromanticism

one's internal yearing

my dearest love, we haven’t spoken in months. 
talk to me when you have the time.

which is what i wanted to tell you
i carved your name into the soft rind of my wanting and found no blood. 
only the sweet pulp lingering,
only the juices sticking to my wrists.

they say that love would ruin me–
a holy hemorrhage,
a throat split open with praise.
instead my body hums like a stalled engine,
heat without flame.
i strike match after match against my ribs and nothing ignites.

forgive me, my love.
i thought i was aflame.

tell me how it feels when the angels croon inside your marrow,
when longing coils hot and sacramental at the base of your spine.
i have pressed my fingers there,
dug beneath the cartilage,
searched the neutral crossfire of my cortex 
for something sacred–
found only static
saline and rust in the sternum.

still–
tell me about the fire.
your fever
about the blaze.
i will reach bare-handed if you let me.
i will cup the seed of it in my palm.
i will swallow the bitterness so you don’t have to.

this is how i love.
not with hunger–
but with apology.

when you kiss me under the red dogwood
and the sun presses its thumbprint into our faces,
you cup my face ever so tenderly,
and whisper my name against my mouth.

my body aches with the shape of you.
it does not beg. 
i do not know how to starve for what is already given.

i used to worship absence.
i used to knot the umbilical cord of desire tight around my own neck,
waiting for you to resuscitate me,
but you never did.

the cicadas scream like hellfire anyway.
the world insists on combustion.
i remain unlit.

did something happen between us?
something like apostasy but shared.
i can never tell the difference between losing skin and losing faith.

i searched my flesh for evidence. 
cut into it like spoiled fruit. 
all i found was this:

a pulse that does not beat.
a mouth that does not ache for appetite.
a love that stays
without spectacle.

holy, maybe–
but not transcendent.

and you are beautiful
in a way that i can touch 
without devouring.