In the meantime,
nothing has happened. To go back to a
time when
the overlap of things wasn't so jarringly complicated when
just the sweet smell of fat frying
and popping on an electric stove
the heater coiled and violent red
was enough.
I never would have
thought to wonder if
my parents
sleeping on separate edges
of a king sized bed
felt cold.
Whether I could tell them all
the complicated truths about me
and they would still want to
rub my back

And so,
the electric heater popping in my
empty bedroom in this empty
house in an empty coal-eyed
city is enough. I will put
the bottoms of my feet on
your calves and that will do
for now

12/16/2008

Posted on 12/17/2008
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