Some say a missed opportunity is glue dried to the cap.
If only it worked more like a faucet and less like a ghost.
Last week, I deleted all the messages off the machine
without listening to any. Later, I called the police on a neighbor
who put his fist between each tooth in the bevel of his wife's
shiny brass mouth. When they knocked on my door I didn't answer.
Some say a missed opportunity is like a dead horse.
If only it worked more like a faucet and less like a ghost.
Once, the man I did not marry punched the wall behind my head
over and over while his baby cried my thighs to wet red.
Sometimes I spend a whole day under the sheets pretending
to be a ghost. Last week, my new husband took me to the beach.
The waves were frozen up high and covered in snow.
I wanted to say I know how that feels. Once, a baby stuck
inside of me like I had been chewing gum in my sleep. I combed
him all out with some red and green pills. I felt just like a faucet.
Some say a missed opportunity is like a baby who starts crying
and won't shut up. Others say all bodies will end up two
chalk erasers cymbaling together in clouds of unrained skies.
