I spared Jesus some steps by reminding him of his whereabouts
(nowhere)
while quoting Shakespeare in an asymmetrical room dotted with square tables
and not so square chairs

the violin raped the stars and Orion creept upon his shoulder while he inhaled the popular dose
Words never did what they should have done

three years too late and I’m still picking up the pieces
the fragments of vertebrae floating in her wine glass
clutched in her palm, wet from the dew- drenched morning
sex still lingering on her skin
the aftermath of catastrophe

hung over
with him—still sprawled out in her bed
twisting her sheets

The bar men stood under the neon lights until they flickered off
wagging their fingers at her “clicky” heels as they wave away the bulges in their pants
an underlying truth

(they don't see me like I should-
kicking his tea across the hall)

The locals admire my curly hair and skin
but my fingers are falling asleep and the bunny is stuck in the fence while they scream

(They forgot to) bring me a s’more