First rough draft written on 12/12/15
Upon the Reception of Another Death
When she opened her mouth
about what had just happened
I felt what an earless gumball machine must feel
and none of it made sense.
She gave me grief the size of a nickel
and tucked it away on the edge
of the brim of my burning
bird bath, scorched it with an invisible kiss,
hot like wine on the cusp of night
when things get hazy.
Not like the nap
where my head soda popped
carbonation clarity sting.
I finally came to, listening
to the distance in her voice.
She was there, too.
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