Monday, August 8, 2022

 —I REALLY DON’T KNOW CLOUDS, AT ALL

 


Saturday, or Some Day

 

First morning 

without you 

as the cavity 

spreads like a virus 

that only knows

how to kill

I never realized

it was possible to

feel this sad 

or abandoned 

The lake The sunshine 

The beauty outside

they all feel contrived

though I know 

they’re entirely real 

same as any other 

slit in the throat 

I keep staring 

at the places 

you’re supposed to be 

watching you roll  

and paw-curl

rubbing your belly

saying Hi Lucy Hi Lucy 

I love you Lucy

saying it over and 

over again 

into a blunt 

emptiness that 

wants me dead 

evening the score

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