“headache no more”
Like roses shedding snake skin in the snow—
when the best of us are icicles
watching our shadows drip below.
I did abuse myself all these years.
Because I did not forget about you—
I wrote about our nights
and poked wallpaper bubbles of our days.
If love were an empty envelope on my desk,
I would stuff it full of cinnamon
and lick it ‘till my death.