Move Me Last

I’m pretty sure the guy in the room next to me slept with his waitress earlier this morning somewhere in whatever a Boudreaux looks like. I glanced through your blog today and got vain. At that moment a hair fell from my head reminding me not to. give a. fuck.

I have scraped the scorpion from the urn where my concession flows and silence bends you dangling in my cartesian as the one I should let get away. But I didn't.

I am neither nice, nor easy.
For some flame
I will be neither here nor there.
as I have come
to praise the woman
who can raise this man from
his grief of home with
the spirits of my bedside
fog inseparable from specter.

My first girlfriend is now engaged.
My best friend is now engaged.
I celebrate
pouring future games
into soil
composting potential
memory.
To new lives.

For the first time
in two years
I prayed.
--For you.
but for the benefit of me
never lead again.