after “This Is Just To Say” by William Carlos Williams
this is a poem about soft bodies because i only liked yours hard
this is a poem about the sweat i licked off your skin 2 forevers ago, in confession
this is a poem about bush summer and stomach that rolls
over. this is a poem about predictability. this is a poem about
2pm every other day. this is a poem about back dimples and collar
bones. this is a poem about rhythm. this is not a poem about music
this is a poem about alternative medicines and swallowing
this is a poem about planets because i used to find divine intervention everywhere even though
that is not what this poem is about
this is a poem about tracing adult acne into constellation and PMSing so bad they look like gods
this is a poem about growing up
this is a poem about wishing you would fuck me til i bleed
this is a poem about fear
this is a poem about exoskeletons
this is a poem with nothing in it. this poem lists beginnings unattached to ends and hopes your
body remembers what happens next
this is a poem that will end
this is a poem that slumped over yours like a cadaver
this poem can hear you breathing
this is a poem hoping to collapse in supernova but slowly hiccuping out instead, like a heartbeat
this is a poem about rigor mortis, or muscle memory
this is a poem about hollows after
this is not a poem about my full name
this is a poem about the most intimate loss to another person, which of course is fingerprints
this is a poem because i’m sorry about touch starvation as habitual self-immolation. the way a
body can burn when it is soft, how pyromanic, how unhuman. i remember this much when i open
my mouth
forgive me, it was so sweet
forgive me