I REALLY NEED TO STOP FUCKING MY FRIENDS
but o, what of the familiarity?
of known hands learning anew?
of a bad outfit thrown off like silk?
of the easy joke of it? our names
re-translated? my gums a
sore muscle? your calves
saplings? our sweat dew?
i have dreams about you even when
you don’t spend the night. in them we spell
the hopeless towns we are from on brick
walls with crumbling chalk. in them i yell
your name and a bike-cop grabs it out
of the air and crushes it back to pulp.
in them we do not make each other sad
with how difficult we think we are to love.
o fortuitous hips
o clunky laugh
o your hair appearing for days after
o how different my ceiling looks
o each time our legs twitch against sleep
o a missed call / a hollow excuse /
a mouth-shaped bruise
A CAR EXPLODES
ahead of me on the highway
as i'm driving to visit you
& it's not my heat to flinch from
i drive past it like any other accident
even though i can see the flames eating
the sky in my rearview mirror
even though i saw the passengers scatter
like memorabilia shattered
i am just grateful to not be the one breaking
i am just grateful i will get to tell you about
this road-trip at the end of it
but when i tell you i prayed at the altar
of disaster that everyone would get
to go home okay at the end of it
how Moses let the fire sweet-talk him into
saving everything he loved / you tell me
the explosion itself sounds impossible
& i think maybe we do too.