my sister
calls me
to show me
a hole in her foot,
and she’s like:
what do you think this is,
as I nurse my cavernous life,
the one I want to begin with you.
why are you smoking that thing?
(she disapproves of my new habit.)
My addictions aren’t that bad,
I just listen to music for every mood
I’ve never been able to explain.
Today I sunk into strong black females
because they’re the only ones who
seem to know how to heal the world.
I cleaned my whole apartment to them,
I jumped around to women on the loose
with a rope so big it scraped the ceiling.
I bought a bike to ride the chorus line
away from everything I’ve known.
During the work day, it’s wordless,
bottomless, foreboding piano,
and when I’m missing you,
it’s the sound of whatever
is currently killing me.

Now hiring (seeking love)

“How are you?”

The silence is deafening,
but I remember that I’m a catch.

“What’s new with you?”

I was let go on a screen.
I don’t recommend the feeling
for my mortal enemies.

Then again, I realize
the biggest enemy I ever
had courses through me.

She wants to destroy every mask she sees.
She’d suck the virus from your lips.

Your hands are clean enough for me.
I will kiss them dry.
Will you hold me where it hurts?

I will cook an egg for you in the morning.

I know.
This is not the time for love poetry,
but will you come find me at the end of the world?

Fall but please don’t drown

I fell for your mountainous mouth
for the waterfall down the middle
that pours both filth and love,
for the sweet and salt you whisper
into my ear at night while my dog
sleeps between your Greek art legs
or at the edge of your flat feet
that don’t hurt when I pull your toes
backward. Your hands know what I
like and where to find me in the dark.
Their wanting washes over me,
tirelessly surging like waves.
We make love in the hospital bed
that was gifted to me. Ophelia
drowns in a painting on the wall
alongside our transfigured bodies.
Hers was the worst way to fall.