simplicity,
a backwards pedal
into a garage
your seeping wealth
of beads of sweat, dark
hair,
your back blurred
in the dryer of a
mens’ room.
stray cats, sex, grey
shorts alone and one
less cigarette a day and night
Tag Archives: sex
recent thoughts.
after all.
i woke up & didn’t know where i was.
i have been here before.
the door should not be here,
it should be there by the window.
(no, two days later, i remember, it was
always there.)
i found myself again and again
here, in all the perfect moments
but it still ain’t quite right.
the apartment is different, more his.
i think of my own.
i think i remember that towel rack
broken, still on the floor. but that
is impossible.
i knew where i was after all.
Filed under monologue
apartments.
too many apartments
i haven’t seen lie
parallel across
the frost, cut
like seams of highways
fighting for the lake
in winter we use
him, and
cloth to cut the ice on
the canal. i don’t
go home with writers,
awake instead until the spring,
counting reasons and
his footprints in the snow
Filed under poem tree
drunk.
he says,
they come to this place
to do what (you
think) is unthinkable,
your nightmares, my bed while
i kissed you asleep,
the skill of my hands on
your skin,
my teeth the undreamt,
he said, in the morning
you come to this place
to not cross the water
we drank before noon
and swallowed the notions
like wine
Filed under poem tree
