I don’t like how
hot
cold
empty
reminiscent
final
full
starting
this morning is
too easy
hard
open up an old book
it is never the same
she-
this is full and empty
I cannot find the in-between
just darting to and from
gluttonous and starving
I once found the in-between
held it closer than she holds hair
I straddle quest
I straddle settled
the only time we find the answers
is when we empty bottles
empty is just the other side of full
we crack bottles
over tombstones
they shatter
not full
nor empty
I am trying not to mourn destruction
birth
smiles
cigarettes
kisses
teardrops
I don’t want to capture
just earn
not full
nor empty
just be
I don’t like how
the last time we kissed
we were not cataclysm
nor inertia
I am trying to get back to her
without asking her to find me
not knowing how full our contents might be later
I know we’re empty,
pretending we are sailboats
filling out linens with as much misery as we can
calling it moving forward
in the corner of this body of water
I feel the breeze run through my hair
her fingers used to run through my hair
When the breeze comes
I tie the jib so I might reach somewhere else.
When I reach somewhere else it is
not different
from what had been left.