Wednesday, August 10, 2016

ET AL.

Aquamarine
panties

puckered
with secret
dawn-

pink seashells—oh I feel so
cartoonish-

ly
annoyed they're
on the bathroom floor.


2.

Blowing to sip (just a)
halfcup

of morning coffee,
I stop

conscientiously lending
a breath to

ask you
how your period is going.

*

The response—I'd call
sober,

but not at all
scientific.


3.

I feel vaguely satisfied

that a certain
but very nonspecific

goal has been achieved—

me having
said your name

so many times in a row now,

that it's done
meaning everything,

past meaning nothing,

and has officially
begun standing-in for

anything at all.

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