9th
countries away, cleansed
i’ve got these hours,
i say.
four cigarettes
removed,
scraping floors off
drug free zones,
binding my fingers with
scarcely freckled raindrops
to skin stretched across your
backbone.
thin coats.
our thin coats.
they assure,
meals aren’t missed
here.
spiritual, i guess
but
we used to treat our bodies like
garbage
all those candy
flippers
i was glued to their dreamy smiles.
unlike you i drew lines but
nowhere prior to predisposed
pink-flamed euphoria.
to me the world grew light
and beautiful.
but i’d never walk planks like you,
never peter panned my
imprecise existence.
you were not ever
garbage to me
but with
a head to heals grin
you’d treat your body like
translucent
trash.
i didn’t have to say
i resign.
instead i just moved and
the purity followed.
you blame geography
and i applaud my
self.
narcissus,
below,
in blindfolds.
we’re quiet now
lips caught red in the dark
you’ll never quite know
the way
relationships
heal us.
till then we go green
polluting our insides.
