There’s a phantom IV
pinned to my wrist, clear tape bending
with gestures. I forget it’s there. I forget its point.
Last Fall, I bent down to gather
my breath, and only stood up
yesterday. Winter nights found me
wrapped in saline tubes, a faucet
at my feet, draining me raw
I think of hormones as edgeless shapes
the soft-edged square in MS Paint,
fuzzy fogs that pass through skin,
walls, homes,
I woke up and mis-clicked, today
found myself staring at your bearded smile
gazing at a sunset, a beach fire,
a heart-shaped face at your side
the faucet broke, today.
flooded my limbs,
chest, walls,
till the alleys of the city
sat in a thick pink haze
no one else
could see.
CarnivalDark 