untitled 2

Queen of Hearts:

here I hover
a satellite
of clamoring emotion
above your blue planet

you call from the bowling alley
thumbing quarters into the pay slot
sucking cigarettes
down to the amber apex

and crying blood

reasons shuffling
like a confused pack of cards

Queen of Knives:

illogical constellations of rain drops
appear across the atmospheric sweep
of my windshield

a girl used to write poetry
about your eyes
about your skin
the way you looked at her

so tell me:
if you weren't hanging
off a window ledge
with your fingers under my foot

what would you say?

when I was around you
I could never sleep
I waited for something
but you were intent
upon remaining absent

until now