from AS IF
The night I drew a star around your nipple, I laid in bed
and wondered what might happen next should my heart
pick up speed a little. Cut to my landing calm and glad after
for the nothing pursued. There’s magic in a car full of generous limbs
and the radio at a whisper. To be the only one awake
is its own enchantment. Or else I’m stabbing at ribbons of ham
in a cobb salad searching for words for what I plan to do
with the rest of my life. As if I have four of anything in me.
Trust I am tired of being civil in the grocery store. It’s not hard
to think of exits swung open, every claim made confetti.
Pills twist in my stomach as I repeat the good I know. I grow
less interested in salt, the wiped-down sink, sounds made by children.