modest mouse tastes like you
and i wonder how you could
have left such a stain running
down my throat
down my right forearm
maybe i should just get the
color tattooed into my skin the
way it wants to be but would
it bleed into the marks
from her
and him
and him
did i bruise them the same way
do they walk through life with
my name etched into their
elbows or trailing down the
length of their spines or have
they covered it up with sweaters
and bandaids
what did i leave with you
besides the last remaining shreds
of my tattered sanity
is there any residue of my laugh
lingering on the curve of your
bottom lip or do you smell my
shampoo on your pillows
have you found my name
on you have you found my
name on you have you
found my name on you

rocket ships and
blooming flowers,
i feel as though i've
gargled with shampoo
but in a good way where
i'm fizzing from the

inside

                                     out,

all the way

up
my
throat

and through my nose. i
have been finding myself
in the cracked porcelain of
my shower, in his
laugh                                          
             ­                             lines,
in my mother's

smile             smile
smile

for me please. didn't
i used to love to be here
for a lens why would
i have ever hated my
own mouth?
there is so much
b e a u t y
in these curves and
cr ev ic es.
i am so proud to be
the owner of these

hands

and of these

hips

thank god i am back thank
god i am back

there is a softness in the willows aching with
your steps- aching to follow the curve of
your spine to the sharp edges of your
hips, aching to chase the scent that
lingers and trails behind you-
that until three days ago i
did not understand.
there is something
about that slight rise
to your lips as you lean
down over me even after i'm
sure i cannot stand anymore heat
heat heat but i'll take more as long as
you are willing to give it, as long as it means
i do not have to lose the sound of you in all
your actions and late night phone calls.

there is this   candle that i keep
in a box and i save it for nights
when i want to think   of  y o u,
when the summer air is too hot
a n d   i  can  imagine  that  you
would   have  turned  o u r   air
conditioning  up so high  t h a t
i would   have had  to put  on a
sweater     while    you stripped
downtonearlynothing.i wonder
if  we  would  have  had   those
gardens you talked about   or if
you would    have taught me to
tolerate beer. i usedto think you
were the  s o l e  orchestrator of
every sunset i had ever     seen,
that you  m u s t  have bartered
some  part  of   y o u r    soul  in
exchange for that laugh       you
had, that all of the absolute ****
i had gone through was simply
there  t o   l e a d   m e   t o  you.
but you did not love me     t h e
same way, you  d i d  n o t  love
m e     the       s a m e           way.