7&8

7.

items lost and found

I keep watching stupid, stupid shit- recipe videos on an endless loop, the sun pass through the windows,
job applications as the windows slowly pass.
tracking numbers.
small, random objects that do not age like I do.
In the back of the fridge,
on top of the sofa,
underneath my pants; I am furiously cleaning, wrecking, allowing.
when I was about eight I lost a pair of aquamarine and diamond earrings in the backyard.
glinting like easter eggs
memorials of my aunt doris.
sometime last year I lost my cat
I know where she is; the fact does not change that she is still,
gone.
twenty dollars on the ground bought laura hydrangeas and tickets to the laramie project.
a rolled-up wad of euros nestled in between cobblestones licked confidence down my throat to leave for deserts vast.

8.

repetition

they say, draw it in upside down,
pinch taut, move swiftly.
when I push it in I think of Emily every time.
when it separates molecules of skin, I think,
there is my name, my birth, my death, my blood changing and moving
beneath the surface
beneath the rest.
they told me to draw with one and change it,
dullness can be impacted down to a molecular level.
Nate told me to call him if I need anything,
anything,
anything in the world at all.
I’m afraid to ask, for fear that I will receive.
The emails are in my inbox,
drawn, not sent.
The letters have been typed; dictated, not read.
Cocked, stocked, and drawn.

-C.

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