雲散霧消

you like to be swallowed
and i like
swallows.

your skin reeks of
yesterday’s moon,
which incidentally
smells like you.

we sit in a gaol
because jail is for
criminals and we are
only immigrants to
petty theft.

coffins amuse you:
the color of the wood.
the curious shapes.
they are lacquered
like your grandmother’s
piano, a word she
pronounced piana. so you
strangled her, and that’s what
i love most about
autumn.

Somewhere after an allergic reaction

Something reminded me of the night that I walked
in the freezing cold at 2:30 am, lost in your part of town
on New Years Eve a few years ago.

I remember that night:
the clouds escaping from my lungs
no stars in the sky
the street lights falling asleep, I was so jealous
the avenues so unfamiliar
yet, I felt so at home.

I remember that morning,

After I found the lock
that fit the key
that I had held in my hand
for what felt like forever.

I remember you laying next to me
face to face
nose to nose
knee to knee.

I don’t think I’m going anywhere with this,
I just wanted you to remember.