-
attached...

I still find you in the dog-eared pages of poetry...
in the unpacked boxes that litter my closet...

I saw a moon not quite
as full as you...

Day stands atop its head
plum-faced and emasculated...

Last night our poet chastised me with his...
while the stars passed over my skin in whispers...

`
eyes like unburned wick...

`
reflective sclera expose stories...

,
making change at a jilted telephone booth...

,
long sanded arms ignited by pale light...

.
jealousy hovers like a parasol...

I woke up wanton, a wretch
spewing up bits of my soul into a porcelain bowl...

I feel a faint ticking in my chest
before another shiver grasps my spine...