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)