the flesh was reconnected
within days, healed
against his urgency, my
will
a seamless graft
protracting his old bruises,
tearing at the stitches never sewn
on louder nights i’m vacant,
more cavity than full, or
all i am
less chunks of skin
but with
these wounds all nights are quiet;
in certain light teeth
make a sound
Filed under poem tree
when i imagine i might
be recognized it’s never been
by you,
it’s by impossible ghosts
of former lovers, their torn
necklines, eyelashes
always grown too long
their shadows reach
each blemish
richly heavy thighs
your slumbered voice, the snow
can never properly distract
because it melts,
you faltered, sliced the
wound, already fresh
while you slept in my
bed we faked
for too long was
ours the sky
light searched and found
the moon, i went away,
in the night too
nihilistic, long, green
lamplight severed from
the wall
left inside a box
for six long winters,
until my father
got arthritis in his knee
Filed under poem tree
i’ve never washed my
hands so much,
or bought a soap refill,
or thought to do that
until now
you shell
your eyes out sideways,
too far gone to tell
i skip the stones on ice on
the way home,
i check a too familiar
stock
Filed under poem tree
