1370

I’m kissing the mirror

remembering how whiskey

tastes off your stomach

and I forget

for just a second

how cold the bed is

the sound of rain

instead of your voice

I’m learning love songs

for the slow mantis

by the windowsill

someone to stay beside

when the moon lays low

my back spasms

and I stay still

because I keep leaving

and staying

and I don’t know

the right words

only

how to hold my breath