899 I

your brother’s asleep
on the couch
with one leg protecting
a dog
and the other pushed
between the cushions
and the blanket

your mother is nursing
a wine
and taking off her nails
getting ready for something
new or different

you think it
always feels like it’s
going to rain
and you wonder
if that’s a tick on you
or a piece of dirt
you’re waiting for
the rain to take away

this feels like home
but you hate it

you wonder who sold
all your things
and why youth tastes like
a dry mouth and an itch
in your throat for something
sweet