When we had the best day ever and
did nothing
to stop it.

You never really got what drowning felt like
until you had to
drown that out
every other day.
I used to be a vacant room but now I’m full of
suspect,
other people’s things,
vindictive trust,
the cloying puffs of air
near my ear saying:
come here.

Anything I ever played in my life with you
I have no right to use now
so you can donate all my melody,
cooking pots
and pointy shoes,
coffee stained cat mugs,
and whatever else breaks your little heart in
two when you watch my stomach swell,
smell my blueberry mango pancakes with too much
agave,
sweet like a sudden poultice for a stab wound,
I was.
Hear me giggle through the wall.

Surfeit with bursting lust,
rooted in his sacrum like a fig sap
suckling at his toes to drink his history,
to fruit something that smiles like
us.
If I was any lighter
you could break me
with my own earplugs
drowning out the sounds
that tap the wall and say
(this is my favorite moment)
enough!

 

“enough”

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