At night I reproduce myself, hologram
on magazine gloss, floss my teeth...

Half-drenched hair.
the sky is bruised-black...

I imagine, vacant eyes,
the cold of the walls...

Did you know?
I've been counting basketballs ever since the day...

With my nose pressed against glass, I'm kissing
turtle heads, neck exposed to fluorescence, almost...

I want the world to consist less
of headaches, of less collars that suffocate...

I walk around the house reciting poetry,
fully dressed against the weather's tantrums...

It's not yet winter and we're already hunting for...
if not cotton, and somehow, as sales seasons sneak...

There's no difference
between untamed love and hate...

Her doorstep was always leafless.
(From her little chair by the window she'd watch...

Along railroads, I can hear the wind
plucking songs from cities and skies...

His hello is just that:
a hello. No flushed cheeks...