.cheers.

He bought all my poems
read all the stories
clapped at every reading
choked down leftover coffee an
hour before bedtime
He would sing them all
back to me while
he took a whiz after sex

I was glad it wasn't
going anywhere wasn't
working out
The bed would be returned
to me like the vast
western expanse
tired of catching tears
and sweat. The
continental divide
sewn back together along
the seams of rivers

Who feeds a tree its
own apples anyway?

honey bee

your love is perfunctory, a chore:
suck from the core, another
petaled mouth for your kiss.
and when you're done, go
home, empty nectar-pockets
for your queen. honey cell.
but don't think of me in a field
of moonlight, my ear to the earth,
listening for you
should you come back.