This last one will burn pure
with perfect intent and perception
and confusing clarity
and her blue-crystalline fire
...
In moments
fleeting
I catch a glimpse of happiness
like unlatched bathroom doors
...
People don't leave
or go missing.
They were never even here.
...
I've seen a man microwave a sponge.
A woman horde baby's clothing.
Cubicles.
Two drink maximums.
...
She's like a long surfboard
or a thin lane
when I look her up and down.
...
There are people
who force you to trudge through
the concrete and quicksand
and others
...
'I can write about anything, ' I said
before I sat here.
'That first night and the cake mix.
...
Not short, I say
as my fingers float above the keys.
Pale either.
...