i
Was that smash inside, or out?
ii
My taste buds are
the only ones less aware
than I am. They’re numb.
I am, almost.
I empty the last
of my bottle of Tia Maria
into my parched mouth.
I don’t remember who drank
the rest of it.
iii
I skip over the pages
that show (un)happy smiles-
I don’t understand them.
Instead, I focus on
the ones I do know,
the ones with you in them.
iv
I thought my hands
could trap the words inside
and keep the rainbows out
(but they are only good
for one of those.)
v
listen.
.
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