im waiting for you in the attic and you'd find it strange but
im tracing your name in the dust on the floorboards
and wearing my father's old letter jacket
and thinking about the night when you tied the thread around my finger and told me red is a reminder of your love
so when you left i pulled at the strings until my fingernail turned white
and willed for color to spill
YOU ARE READING
temporary earth
Poésiepeople watch and whisper about their whisky secrets and virgin tongues so i hold the lighter against my cheek and tell myself that jupiter is home and i am only away for the weekend
