1.

Habits keep us human:

peel back the skin underneath a fingernail

to remember the pink of flesh.

While waiting to heal,

ask yourself:

Do I remember

what it feels like to touch

without hurting?

 

​

2.

So you're leaving.

So you're leaving and for good this time.

You're holding onto your suitcase and

I'm wishing you well,

the words rolling back into my mouth

becoming grains of sand stuck

on lips, breasts, legs —

grains of sand rolling, forming tumors

in all the soft parts you

once tasted.

​

3.

Something citrusy

pops

eye and all the tender

parts of tongue

stinging with flavor.

 

Something tender

blooms

and thrashes, blindly,

until heart finally gives in

and swells.