thanks for stopping by

Your empty gin glass is on th floor
dry as a another sunset
still from when you were here
walking around at night while I sleep
it sings a song of antibiotics
& lounges around in a sexless fashion

When I can no longer feel regret
for th lime that was cut for you
sacrificed for your cancerous smile
that eats at love like a broken record
or th biography of a nervous breakdown

Th glass I cannot bring myself to
throw in the sink, which
stares out th window day after day,
even when th flowers are shouting for broken glass
& th couch has reedemd yr poetry