write some poems that i can give him
ok (but they’ll all be about the hims)
good idea bad idea no good
twinning and losing
our volcanos over the dining room table
past past now pssst
gratefulness
oh yeah i forgot that i am lucky.
greatness
truly.
better to have loved and lost…ok
but
truly.
BUT
this rotting yoke of numbness and lava
tongue pressed between my molars
an indentation of purpose
handwriting worse than his or his
but lacking his shape his zest
but wrote this okay
what happens now save every voicemail not that his tone would have been forgotten but to hear him call me tweety as many times as
the magic of a fresh cut i am literally lighter though not by much my shoulders have less to lug my neck has less to
write some poems that i can give him ok (but they’ll all be about the hims) good idea bad idea no good twinning and losing
peering through thick glass your back to me is waiting any news at all? running down broad steps into your brotherly arms crying without breath!
is it the ticking of the third hand or the faucet dripping onto discount bulk blueberries both measuring time “going in circles” as he would
you are your own though your temperament reminds me of him your head is more ripe mango while his was more soft plum my love
