A moon-shaped belly button
full with sweat
where i hung my tongue



where did you put that
poem i gave you?



I think you tucked it somewhere
in your bra,
and let the ink run
over your skin
that day it was too hot
for shirts.

You sat by the a/c
in your *******
and sweated out every
sin that god ever
created.



Right below our apartment
were the subways filled with people
in the tunnels where
the heat made the people want
to strip down to nothing.



I don't have to tell you about that day,
but i want to just in case I forget
and forget this final *******,
not to you,
but to those
underground rumblings
and tiny teeth of electricity
that flitted up through our bones

as though we were just tracks

of steel.

This love
was the thing running us over
grinding our skeletons
out to a mechanic thinness.



the day we said goodbye
we said it
with middle fingers.