Pretty words flow from unkempt mouths.

I long to breathe out that

I have seen what your lips do in the dark 

but I can do nothing except

breathe in secondhand smoke.


You call me darling 

and suddenly I am in your 

arms and I can only think

of affectations and whether 

or not my frame or hers fits more 

comfortably in your grasp.


I should not have fallen

in love with the wind

or boys who resemble it.

A gust may feel like

an embrace but it is always short-lived

and will leave barren trees

in its wake.


I have loved empty men

who howl as broken women pass by.

I have loved storm

shelters and I have loved hurricanes.

But you, you are the worst

by far. Your voice sounds like

home and your arms reiterate,

but your heart always has another

occupant in mind.

This poem is about: 


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