Floating, Brilliant, Gone

Not everything floats. I am trying to learn which parts of me to let sink.

What if my heart goes deaf?

Bury the boys who look like your brother and wrap yourself around a picket fence to whom you will only ever be a dream.

How the dog knows why it’s kicked, declawed by what it calls friend.

He is here and loves me. And that’s the first and last reason.

When he laughs at the texture of your sadness, turn away from his mouth, no matter how soft.

My lover who is here is here.

What wouldn’t you do to be held? Don’t tell me you’ve never taped shut your own mouth.

Not every house is haunted.