I don’t
want to **** you. I want
to be in the same room

with you.

there is
something about you
that reminds me of myself.

yellow mayonnaise
and a pickle. that’s all that was left

after you left.

you thought I’d **** you.
you didn’t leave a note.

you left
that dress

hanging like a blue skeleton
in the closet. a green pickle

and a blue dress. I hold it up
to the disinfectant of sunlight.

smell it as I close my eyes.

I want you here
trapped in honey or amber
but when I look

you are no longer
in this

room.