6/17/17

in the bin


she smells of tears
pools of sweat
cheap cigarettes
and eventual formaldehyde

her rattling, chattering
stories of expertise
promises, opinions
all tangled white noise

better than most
she’s carefully crafting
the requirements of
a perfect alibi

ripe in the room
vegetable decay
her burning compost
stiff as the whiff of
waste

6/9/17

she looked at me 
like i was crazy

i looked at her
and let go of the kite