we have hushed conversations about you
over my lunch and their breakfast,
a quiet sermon over the phone and
stilted sentences in messages.
you collected us like bottle caps,
crusty blue, green, red, lime metal,
and you put us in a drawer and then
forgot of our existence.
we discuss it at great length. over my toast, and their eggs.
you told me once you were afraid of arizona’s heat
from the safety of the big house with the fish
in massachusetts. now you paint next door.
you pulled ribs from my waiting chest
and tucked them deep into your sleeves
and took you and your blood-stained linen
and discarded them in a corner in new mexico
5000 miles away from my softening brain.
“everything is because of this,” i whisper,
and above the orange is the whistling of the wind
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 6:53 AM UTC
we have hushed conversations about you
over my lunch and their breakfast,
a quiet sermon over the phone and
stilted sentences in messages.
you collected us like bottle caps,
crusty blue, green, red, lime metal,
and you put us in a drawer and then
forgot of our existence.
we discuss it at great length. over my toast, and their eggs.
you told me once you were afraid of arizona’s heat
from the safety of the big house with the fish
in massachusetts. now you paint next door.
you pulled ribs from my waiting chest
and tucked them deep into your sleeves
and took you and your blood-stained linen
and discarded them in a corner in new mexico
5000 miles away from my softening brain.
“everything is because of this,” i whisper,
and above the orange is the whistling of the wind
