as if i can't read through the cellophane-covered love letters
from the boy who fingered my throat and saw stars therein
the one who can peel back white paint and whisper into the eaves
and leave in shambles a once fiercely built sanctuary

i prayed to the ceiling in the dimmest of the nights
to uncurse me, to sew me back like sally, sewn like you couldn't be
evidence from your hapless choice to take me in
your chest exposed itself: stringless, veinless, merely a wire-board

fourteen does not forget
don't say i miss you, baby
when you only miss my simultaneously
shut and open jaw