a real shoulder biter

new moon in taurus.

I miss my Midwest ginger
 as how a white tee will remember citrus flesh
 an aching sore

I am undone and it is so chill
 by every love I gobble
 like a watermelon seed I
 mean how else does one even
 fathom
 a summer except 
to ripen
 
as it goes
(doing the aftermath)
 I am split open

I take great pains
 and some even mightier pleasures

if you memo it but can’t
 carry it where does that get me?
 (strolling impious, leaking bibs on your tennis shoes)
 I made an effigy in your likeness out of parking
 tickets, to burn
 our transgressions are but ash
 
I stood downwind

I’m all open palm
 but what’s a five to infinity
 & why (anyways) do I still
 croon with all my baby teeth?
 not like my mother is the type
 to save
 them