somewhere in the dark
cross the line between lover
& apprentice
between angel & whore
cross your heart
believe the prettiest lies
in the morning,
i’m afraid to get out of bed
i need sound, or
at least noise
this desk drawer that
holds all of her letters
this poem that bleeds
that leaves a mess on
the dining room table
no flowers
no mirrors
keep the doors locked and
the phone unplugged
smell of sex still
on my fingers
stand perfectly still
breathe in stale air
and grey light
all despair causes cancer
all starving children
are as good as dead
grab what you
hold most dear and wait
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