A mantra for the haunted men's lovers.

One day you will sleep with a man
who is better than you.
He will touch you like the surface of a lake,
like he knows he will cause ripples
and he cannot bring his fingertips to do it.
Do not correct his assumption
that you are not only still on the surface
but all the way down.
Remember that the reflections you offer are still beautiful,
even through the layers of algae you've grown.
Remember that a little distortion can be a good thing.
Remember the way the sunlight sparkles
on flowing rivers. Remember
that still reflections are of something already seen,
but when wind moves the water,
it offers something new.

Breathe in.

When he buys you cigarettes the next morning, remind yourself:
this does not make me a whore.
Remember that mornings after don't have to be full of pretense.
Once upon a time, a boy made you eggs in his father's kitchen
while his cat twined around your ankles.
Remember how that felt.
Remind yourself that sometimes people mean exactly what they say,
and that when he mentioned a second date,
he was not saying it
to placate you.

Breathe out.

When he tells you he is dreaming of wet, black earth,
of worms between his teeth, of
holes too deep to climb out of,
do not tell him you already know.
Instead, tell him you will wait until the storm leaves,
until the skin of his wrists smells like ozone again.
Remember the way his lips fell on your chest,
quiet late night summer raindrops.

Breathe in.

When you think about things the next day, remind yourself:
there will be more to think about.
Do not assume you will be left. Give him
the benefit of the doubt.
Remind yourself:
He is better than them.
Remind yourself:
He is better than you.
When he emerges, and you kiss him,
and his lips taste like dark dirt,
do not turn away.
Remember that you smell like lake water in June.
Remember that the dirt is where things grow.
Remind yourself:
he is stronger than you.
He is stronger
than this.

Breathe
           out.