Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.

we drove on through
the blue seal of morning as the turbines
turned and winked out their hearts

the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

I buy too much, for someone of my stature.
could pawn a skinny metaphor to purchase a plump skin.
its reputed in our lineage— to daydream a life that shreds our pockets.

I am still waiting for the lion

I am not a guide
for every traveler
of loss.

I want to roll in this moment until I become its vocabulary
until I smell like the bones
until I am its echo…

I myself should never have been born

love is a soggy tea stain on a grocery receipt

Winter sat like a wolf
on the horizon.

I have observed, the theorist
I am

Gravel-scatted hell &
we were blessed to be able
to hold on for even a heartbeat

He has stories that I am not in
anymore. It’s healed this way.

Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth,
cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.

You said it was okay to blame
what goes wrong on the planet