It's around 2 a.m.
and you're driving,
stuffing french fries in your face--
          i'm holding your ketchup
          dipping packet thing,
          resting my hand
          on the gear shift.

we're singing to that ridiculous
fucking Royals song that's playing
right now, but

you always have to be right
and the loudest to sing.
          just wanna be heard, i guess.

the radio is playing but I'm getting out of range for the station so there's more static than sound instead of changing the station I turn up the volume like I'll somehow hear it better and long goodbye comes on -what kind of love keeps breaking apart- I'm not here im four months ago at 2 am monday morning online reading I can't do this -two lovers in love can't make it- I wanted to believe it wasn't us red wine on a tuesday night wednesday night thursday night to try and sleep -baby it's over let's face it- I can't bring myself to open the cinnamon rolls in the freezer maybe I did am hanging on too long but it might just be my thing I listened to static for 8 minutes just to be sure I heard it all

the sleet is clicking
against the window--
insistent fingernails gouging
though my hair (she knows
i like head scratches
but this wasn't what i had
          in mind)
my cat is yowling
outside the bedroom door
          --needy shit--

he sends me dirty texts, the blue
flashing light reminds me of
his eyes when he looks up at me
from between my legs

i fell asleep in my eyebrows
and next to my taxes.
i forgot to take my earrings out
          --they stab me in my sleep
if he were here, they'd cut him too
but he never stays long
enough to find out.

Let's make grilled cheese
at 3 am while we're bleary eyed and still
shaking. There will be a soft thud (and a pathetic mew)
from the living room when your cat walks into a chair
and we'll whine in unison for the poor thing and
implore the cat to tell us what's wrong and
why he did that when he knows he can't see--
          he won't answer, 'cause
          words just will not sometimes can't do

I'll lean against the counter,
shirt slipping off my shoulder, and
push the sandwiches around the pan, putting off
flipping them until the cheese is melty
--eyeliner stretched to the point of exhaustion
frames cracking eyes,
          haphazardly bleeding into shining flesh
          blooming viole(n)t purple bruises-- unfurling
          into jaundiced yellows and deoxygenated blues
          oozy life force, my insides making my outsides, exposed. and raw becoming
and the crust is crispy

You lean against the counter, watching--
smiles whisper across our faces,
spectres flirting with our lips,
playing transmutatory tag across our faces features red light? green light baby
come kiss me SILENCE is the thing but
you hug me from behind and kiss the side of my face.
Contentedness vibrates from that kiss, shaking
my heart into glittering shards---everything was rainbow rainbow rainbow----

cut through the sandwich
on the bias--
          since we are 'ed for each other anyway
          self professed, wouldn't (can't?) lie.
spread the two halves and catch the mess with your tongue.
or lick it off your fingers.

no sign of what we did
once it's over, except
dirty plates and a steely dan record
playing on repeat

when i was in college i wrote all the time and even the littlest moment or glance or potato chip or drink could make a poem gush from me but now the gushing is just words and it's usually i'm sorry and i can fix that but now when i try to write i don't get much what am i going to write about now would you start a poem like if you tug gently on the shade with two hands you'll hear a click you didn't break it you just reset your cordless mechanism or let's go ahead and uninstall the driver so we can update your soft-

ware shit that's a good start maybe we're getting somewhere

9.8m/s2

I never understood
unrequited love--
          when someone didn't doesn't love me
          I am nourished by my love for them.
loving is enough.

until I met him--
          I gave him a
          new name
          so i could speak freely:
Seth. easy to say and smooth
and vulgar--keeping my tongue at the
front of my mouth between my teeth
so it's always close (but not too obvious!)
to his skin. Dear god,
i do all the work but i could use
the exercise.

i walked by
a periwinkle house
with a navy blue door
and a black mailbox,
trying to will my feet
to keep going and
my heart to stay in my chest.

it was 73 degrees
and of course I wore
my sweatpants. and the sweatshirt
he lent to me that's four sizes
too large.
i passed three people.
          none said hello. i must have been invisible,
drowning in clothes like that. being swallowed up
even though i was never one for
biting off more than i could chew, til recently
when i stopped chewing and only did the biting.

i've heard it said
that our hearts
are wild animals
which is why
our ribs
          are cages.
numbers pull at my (wish)
          bones-- friction against fabric
fwup fwup of sandals
sweat licking down my back.

i got to a road i'd never seen before
and the sign said STOP
          so i did
but not after i laid my hand on it.
the metal was cold (a quick reprieve
from the heat) but it wasn't enough
to soothe my throbbing
left ventricle or relax my
spastic diaphragm.

i walked past
a periwinkle house
with a navy blue door
and a black mailbox
(downhill this time!)
and wondered if this is
what's it's like to be digested.