Dining Hall

The day that Darwin dies
you call me at lunch
surrounded by raucous boys
who would ridicule your tears

Milk

You’re downing a glass
as I sip my wine

Separated by years
and words you don’t know

Our preference in beverage
is the space between us


The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack

Lullaby redhead croons my fingers bend three at a time choking out two-syllable death trap.

Constellating

Sandwiched between
fresh books
spines not yet cracked

Secretive soulmates
sharing espresso-scented
pecks on strawberry lips

Hush Hush

Hands that aren’t yours
hold back my hair
dampened
tears shed
over words you threw
shattering
showering me with shards
of the way you once felt


Day Long Marriage

Air-conditioned summers
bare skin on leather couches
your hand resting
on blue ruffled *******


Happy New Year

Crouching
behind closet doors

your voice
at once comfort and affront

I’ll forget the words you say
still clutching my phone
wishing it was you


The Other Emily**

Purest form of you and me
Benadryl-induced delusions
refusing sleep
exhausted
warm and doe-eyed
in the glow of your fondness