Two too many

I was hungover that day
we met for drinks. Maybe
you knew. I had already thrown
up twice before we met. Friends
told me to call it off, but no way.
A girl I like said ‘yes’ to a date,
no way.

There was effortlessness all about
you; you took no effort in meeting me;
you had no need of effort.


What a rust color on that
building side. You can talk
to birds through a whistle
though neither knows what
it means, the whistle. This
means I love you. This means
you hug very well.


This means I miss the way
you made my clothing smell;
it was your scent. That linger.


Wind that up and listen to the wind blow.

How it whines, it reminds me of me,
only the wind doesn’t need pity

parties, doesn’t like them. But I love
them, that’s my problem.

I wish I were more like the wind.

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