you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?

You’ve spent a lifetime training
for this.

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

Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night;
should have boiled old coffee before noon.

There is so little left of the tomato plants.

Lights on the dashboard spell out
“You still can’t kiss me”

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

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

Winter sat like a wolf
on the horizon.

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

You are strange, my mother said, dwelling on the past.

Even as the sun warms the concrete
the long nights’ sensual cold lingers in my clothes.

I myself should never have been born

Even from this distance I could go out
the door it would bang shut and crumble

Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.

My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”