fridge poem
in 5 hours
i will know.
(i could count this on two hands)
all of my life behind me
& the rest of my life in front of me:
the only thing i want from you
is the one thing i can't give myself.
our lives seem to be collapsing
in this tiny house
with a brand new fridge
every morning
i put a new piece of myself
in the various compartments
my toes :
in the vegetable crisper
my kneecaps:
in the freezer
my better judgement:
in the dairy cooler
my hair:
running through your fingers
like sand.
call me a romantic,
i still feel myself fall away
in your wake.
1 Comments:
it's the mysteriousness and temporal ambiguity... the beautiful spookiness of your work that gets to me
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