I. Appelquist (iris_on_fire) wrote, @ 2006-02-27 21:01:00

evidence
when you're not here
i do not stub my cigarettes
all the way
out. i bite off the dead
skin around the corners
of my fingernails & the back of
my lower lip
while i write, sitting
on blankets made by Mexicans

in Kansas City which
is home to me as you are
in a certain
sentimental way that binds
us through whatever
time & struggle or
rapture & mischeif may
distract us from each
other momentarily.

when you're not here
it is very quiet except for
the radio & i contemplate drinking
all of your coffee before i
leave except i wont. instead i
will find some subtle scrap
of paper on which to
copy down this thing &
leave it in a spot you
may not discover for days.
&, though imperfect, these
are the ways.

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