Ninety (2).

I can draw a straight line
but I am incapable
of accurately measuring
distance. I should say that I'm sorry
but instead,
"I could never be a cartographer."

Now that we don't live together
I smell like blueberries
and mint.

A plate drops into a kitchen sink
shattering with a sound that is both startling
and satisfying. When will we
do such significant things
to each other?

No. 8.

I need to start seeing myself as something that's blooming.

No. 7.

I don't believe that everything needs a mystical explanation. We're human beings. Sometimes we act like animals.

Ninety (1).

Eighty-nine. Here.

I am done panicking
about time
and bad attic dreams.
I give myself flowers, chocolates,
orgasms. Turning the room pink.
There comes a point
where you don't want
to explain yourself to anybody.

Eighty-eight.

I love you.
Let's move
west.

No. 6.

I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY.