breathe in:
wet salt,
bedsheets, inhale through
the mouth
eyes kept
empty
or closed, whether open or
hands
crush empty pockets
release it
at the keep
I walk
the summer broken
signs and cracking streets
early dark thunderstorms and
I think
clothes
are changing shape
and not in size stuffing pockets
unclaimed grace
my footsteps, my reasons
are sterilized
my city, kitchen shelves, bedsheets
are both kept
and left
back on the nightstand cigarettes
wallet, sickly with welts is bedridden
phone is now nowhere near the answer
pick me up and unleave me, said us
to the other is now somewhere near
useless in our like-mindedness keys, reluctantly
stuffed into my back pocket
the strategy - empty entrance
a kept home
but now,
put it off I walk,
carefully around the edge of summer,
wet salty bedsheets
unresponsive employers
unwanted hunger
unwanted
hunger
fall in love, unchecked keys
in empty pockets, and
yours? unfeathered
grace will come
at a price the keys
found and kept
to make moves
(moves are
not necessarily
entrances) ridden of the
pockets of their
homeliness ownership
safety love
expressionless to help me
walk
June, 2014