I.

switching to lamps from the overhead has
warmed the room modestly
but it’s not what the fire once was
as I tighten my robe and eat the
cranberries from the sauce one by one
tv buzzing  


II.

I wanted to keep lightly tethered
ask you how you’re holding up, sometimes
take photos off the walls, but
move them to the basement, not the trash

but you insisted—and I oblige
no talking, no remembering
****, sorry
I forgot


III.

I end the year with hardened skin
on my left index finger
on my lower lip
on my heel
scratching until there's blood, and then
this is the resolution:
stop stop stop stop stop

it’s harder each time to take myself seriously when I promise