i'm making fish sticks in the kitchen drinking a blue moon
thinking about how i sat gracefully, weightless on your back while you laid there shirtless and i squeezed every knot out of you
like wringing a bleached towel out
and you
switched, sitting on top of me rubbing that sweet ******* anthropologie scent into my skin
and i told you what i wanted for christmas  and you apologized for getting cheeto dust on my down comforter
and we'll drive halfway across the country just to find ourselves in it
and you apologized for doing coke
and i apologized for not caring
and you held my face between your hands like some kind of heart shaped pebble you found on the beach
and i was glowing
and you let me scratch at you with needles and i was glowing
but i don't love you, and i don't think i could