1005

she used to be a “writer”
now she’s a magazine
with glossy teeth
scented lips
a detachable nose
redeemable for
cigarettes

she used to be a drunk
now she’s a drunk

she used to be in therapy
now she’s on painkillers
the kind that empties
lights from the ceiling
pours them into her coffee

she used to be a jogger
now she’s a runner
now she’s changed her name

she used to be monogamous
now she
– listen to the way
our lake kisses the moss
the way the fish
come up at midnight
just to disappear like
everything else
look at the way the rain
stores itself in the pot
how it shines when the moon
dips away from its blankets
now look at me
the way my lips part
into little red islands
my tongue is a peninsula
and my chest is an old
continent
shaking underneath you
do you feel it
like I feel it
I’m just waiting to disappear

it’s all a bunch of sliding
glass doors at her grandmother’s
home

if it
come on

if it

alright