hem slipping up to expose my own,
a garter wrapped around my left thigh:
fresh with conquest,
lasting impact of
your parting mouth that just
hangs there and hurts when I

I’m counting
cicada shells
under the picnic table.
a gesture of presence.
Someone told me to stop replaying old voicemails and
I needed a year to pass.
I scrubbed away the last of your fingernail but I have to
ride the bite marks out.

I stick out my tongue to catch all she had.
bold with my repentance
and ready to wash the phantomsaway.

the gray sky remembered
she had lightning.
suddenly elucidated,
I am the dark thing inside of me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: