crescent moon waxing buttery over a loaf of bread
lonely, scattered in the parking lot
i ask the sky,
where do pigeons go at night.
five dollars buys me enough to sleep,
maybe even get a laugh in --
i feel thirsty for myself,
to know the me that knows
how to be fun.

in the line we stand
six feet apart, like
good little children
hugging our knot,
begrudgingly.
two girls with
eight braids between them
play-fight, step out of line.
the younger swinging punches
silly-slow like
underwater, giggly
never landing blows, like
girls do, too amused to
do harm.

we roll over, hungover,
he mounts the day,
and i lay passive and dull.
he moves with the seriousness
of a man who has
little time,
i move with the grace of
dried bones.

wakefulness, always around the same time
no longer from despair, i simply
spend my days in a torpid state.
what is the need for sleep
when nothing has been spent?

"are you at
risk?
have you started
planning?"
i can't help but
laugh, nervously
perhaps. i have always seen
quietus
simmering on the back burner.

home is an
ex-lover;
i am learning
to accept his transience.
love is
strictly for the birds.
letters in the box
asking when i'm
leaving,
the sirens becoming
more seductive.

i am burying my luck.
clay sticks under my fingernails
as i try to unearth
something that feels like
devotion,
sculpt something that feels like
money.

all i've learned is that i am
"too cautious," and
"overly ambitious,"
as if i can afford to be
enigmatic.

i watched man
that would **** me
in a matter of hours
from the safe distance
of the couch.

he was kneading
dough for a batch of
stranger things
biscuits,
i hear my
grandmothers high-pitched southern twang,
“light touch on your dough.”
he kneaded and kneaded
and kneaded,
and i said nothing.

what’s the point of
the everyday?
we can have drunkenness that makes
the nighttime more romantic
than our eyes will believe.

sweat on the nose,
honey on the tongue,
bitter citrus as it goes down.

i have to decide preemptively
to keep my hands to myself,
to keep my heart in my sleeve.