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

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

and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

my father holds
his favorite drink

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

I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.

We stop doing dishes while
a mile unwinds
from the tree outside.