I am sleeping on the couch

because the bed got so empty tonight

empty like a clean bowl

nice set of China, we took it out

to use whenever we wanted because

fuck special occasions, it’s an occasion to be alive 

and in love 

and to miss your laugh. 

I painted blue lines on my body

and you told me how your veins once collapsed

from dehydration, 

I once drank so little water I turned into a stone ridge

and got Scarlet fever. 

Same mindset. 

Same rings around Saturn and this dishware. 

Same hole I’m boring into the floor I pace

because I can’t sleep on a red eye. 

The sheets are made of glass. 

Curation and preservation of where you last saw me. 

Arrange your art so it’s beautiful to the eye. 

I have two couches in this living room,

one for me and one for you. 



if my limbs are curled 

it is the training 

my body received

on how to play dead

and if this flailing is a message

it’s just that I carry so many words inside

like a novel, ideas 

that are screaming at decibels only dogs 


or fish that glow in the dark 


or boys with no eyelids 


this mouth is light a lightbulb

or a screwdriver

depending on the second

hand you are laying down

in the drawer