(hit me, 2021)
hit me, us
hard or harder
we know loss
the way it is to feel absence
to imagine the embrace
hands hair face
linen and menthol
Newport Lights, Menthol
to feel the sun mimicking you
the way you used to
hit me, us
hard or harder
(oak boards, 2021)
feet pad on oak boards
slosh water into kettle
place it on the stove
I crave the crawling
down my throat
take the bite away
(in the sky, 2021)
in the sky
as it was, far away
panicked people slept together. wrapped
inside, above, around, below
uneven ground a glass prism
back-to-front
moon turned against the morning
woke stroked her hair
(superstitions, 2021)
superstitions
slept on the
inside of her window
would listen to
contemporary art
of doors that could
take you far away
(all the things I used to take, 2021)
All the things I used to take
for granted, you —
the kind smile,
with impatience and persistence
I remember the kitchen
the chair that saves and a Long Island table
lights dim to keep us warm
in our midnight exchanges
of no particular
kind, you know
the night is so heavy
demanding to be felt
how so, "good morning" of you
(June 6, 2021)
June 6, 2021 at 3:37 AM
Mom used to remember
to change the air filter
when my eyes would be
stuck shut in the morning
