: art ache

a little too rough, i
pressed the tip
of my pencil down
and broke you.

just then, i awoke
to cotton clouds, cottonmouth
and wordless sleep in cotton sheets.

i know what it's like
to take the wrong bite.
i do it every day.

have you ever touched
a bird? i will never forget
that bird fridge, the smell of
damp, dead fur.

when dogs are listening
it is fucking obvious.
same for you. i think i know how to listen,
but i will learn how to look like i am
before i forget.

colors have been hard to draw
ever since i lost my patience blending.
i prefer watching them touch each other
in my closet.

last time i left the country
i thought i may never leave again. and yet.

i carry a water bottle
everywhere i go, just in case
i wake up thirsty somewhere far away.
or even, just in case somebody else does.

every letter in my alphabet
looks like an "i" --
it's really not my fault
that i's are so generic.

this one time
i decided i wasn't the kind of girl
who would be taken with horses.
now i know, that was a really great call.

go-karting is much safer than walking
the streets of manhattan alone.
sometimes i wish i could try both
naked.

it gets easier, being a bunny
especially when you don't see bunnies
on the streets of manhattan alone.

the other morning
i woke up without a single thing to do.
that was a joke.

Gratitude ate the dingo
that ate my baby,
and i was grateful.

the only times i love crying
are in crowds, because we all hear the same noise
and in bed, because you left me empty.

i can remember so many weightless smells
but not your skin.