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

Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.

Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.

you quit wearing pants
loaf around your yard
in hole-nipped panties

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

I myself should never have been born

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

I would always rather be happy than
dignified. Rather held than held
in awe.

There is so little left of the tomato plants.

my friends’ fathers are
dropping
I mean dying
like flies

In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers,
my back a misguided quote

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

It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.

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

Every so often, they add a tattoo
in honor of some long-forgotten love.

Do not say anything anybody else has said ever. Things are not “bleached by sun.”

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