out of cracked kitchen floors,
six dirt crusted siblings and chickenless chicken soup
a flash of floating footsteps and a motion
of a tapering, gloved hand.
he followed me up to the bar
i gave him a half smile and an incline of my head.
i gave him a tight dress and riveting conversation.
he left me while i was sleeping
i gave him eight lines with no culmination.
she waited to “sober up” before driving rather than chip in for the cab back.
split four ways the fare would have been $3.
they all waited.
and they all died.
why can’t we just leave well enough alone?
i gaze up miles of black spotted yellow.
he drops leaves on my upturned face.
she woke up shaking tumbleweeds from a dream of bleeding beach houses.
wind trickles over her arm hairs
something an ex said about me to my current bf in one of my dreams
when she heard she was a heartbreaker
the low sun glances across the waves
and sharpens with the salt,
resting on the horizon
and the wreckage.