chair corpse

That frozen mourning
All of the colors bled in unison
like the world outside your car window
you left your sweat there
and ignored your mother’s wisdom
Later you remember the feel of chilled glass
Against your baby cheek
You forget what she told you
About mornings like these

These mornings I sit straight up
Erect, like I remember you
You ask me to sit on the toilet seat
While you shower so we can “talk”
Dripping about how I’ve known you for years
I let the water dilute your memory, apologizing
secretly whispering hopes for its demise
you leak through my cracks and I put my bath
mat in the dryer, pretending it’s me

Dripping, dripping, dripping
the chair I left outside all winter
cracked open, weeping ice
The corpse is still in my kitchen
I remember you asked me to shave
your neck, right below your hairline
I can never refuse your nudity
This mourning is a stale bagel,
smiling, “I don’t really care anymore”