Pale in the flare light
Seams & Pores
degree to degree
folded ears, whistling speakers
Home alone and undressed
- I missed this,
- simple freedoms --
- a working mom, my own cat
- on my bed
- Soft music curing romantic stressed headaches
No more crying, no more smiles
- A whole me on a half-made bed
- my bed, no one else's
- Oh, screw kindergarten lessons,
- I only share what I want.
- Always ghosts here.
- Sleep, rest, relax, lie down.
- You can't wake me now, spirits,
- this is my afternoon.
- I can blow you off, your voices
- fuck with me like
- he
- he used to try. Smelled like soap
- in public bathrooms.
- But you, now, you're clean.
- Like Windex or linoleum
- We've had all of this before, all that we wanted --
- candles, condoms, roses, wrenches.
- Maybe you should drop her title
- Drop the capital letter, the x
- Burn the fragments but don't bother to trash them.
- Let them lie.
- If you need to remember, keep.
- Pain. I need it. My muscles
- hadn't done that enough.
- My throat stretched to accept you,
- to hear myself talk to you.
- I sang with her, you let me, and
- we all belted the lyrics.
- For once I can wait for you. I can accept sexlessness.
- So can I
- (Conversations.)
Abstract thoughts I am allowed to have on my bed, my house, my pen. Catnaps and blanket bindings, oh, I missed them, like summer and stretch marks. All is all is enough, like the radio tried to say as it cracked and fizzled out.

