dark dancing the swish-
swash glug-glug to drown
Thursday in the rust belt &
this used to be our favorite
before the fire– now smoke
seeps through the brick
we bottle into our lungs
in an attempt to pacify
our knifebeats, this onset
of strangers, inevitable
hellos & exchange
of bodies
(originally published in Door Is A Jar Magazine, Spring 2020)