Spoopy_Mouse

It's hard to hold any man
who reaches out with empty hands
Waiting in the water
until it takes him
Wading in my arms
til we go under

When we freeze on winter streets
he sees the trees as skeletal

I was born from desire
My heart sloshing in my chest
Ready to erode everything
Suck people in and spit them out
Their bones bleached clean

It is night, for now, the water is still
My feet sink into the sand

You were brisk with your walking
Ignoring Oregon, and all unsaid
Before the goodbye
I fell behind admiring a slug
Knelt to let it crawl across my palm
I imagined your toys
Dusty, in our attic of ancient things

A Greyhound bus to Boston
And a hotel that smelled like mold
With water stains washing the walls
Everything 17 years too old

Backs pressed to the wall of the museum
Hoping people would analyze us as art