Afternoon on a Lake

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We wrote poems in cigarette smoke,

or sex

as it ran down the side of a boat

intertwined in water

from a dammed-up lake,

forced to exist.

 

Ash singed the pages,

humid moonlight

that burned our hands

until we could not touch.

drops hit the glass surface,

coerced water rippled.

 

Debris floated in wet air,

forth and back

and back

we reached for pieces

as they dissolved

into rain.

 

Once, I Was Asked Why I Stayed (#1)

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The necklace

around my neck

hands

or curse words slipping

 

across a Pine-Sol floor

I should’ve cleaned better                                    

like dishes

 

slamming against a wall

the muzzle

chilling my temple

an empty freezer

expired chipped paint

over a patched hole

 

That Awkward Moment

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I laughed,

because I always laugh

at poorly executed jokes,

and drowned as Armani cologne

soaked. His shirt,

didn’t match.

But I’m not one to judge fashion

or drink too much wine

while he recited facts

Googled–probably while

he was in line at a scummy gas station

buying condoms

as though I wouldn’t

put him out like the orange end of my

Marlboro Red, stuck between lips

then thrown down.

I stomped it with the heel

of my stiletto,

this ensured the flame

was quite

extinguished.