I left my blanket in the backseat of your car.
I left my feather in gate 2B of the airport.
I left my nail polish in your mouth,
my sewing machine in the mall—
I left my bobby pins on the pier.
Left my willpower on your sweating neck,
my collarbone on the front porch—
earrings in the tire swing,
I left my seashell in your armpit.
I left my nightmares in Ohio.
I left my long hair in the cave,
my hammer in your glovebox
I left my eyelashes in the ashtray
my lung in a—somewhere...
I left my jacket in the shower.
I left my thigh beneath your pillow,
left my molars in the freezer,
fire in the basement—
loneliness in the top dresser drawer.
I left my heartache in the French press,
fingers on a city bus,
I left my missing on a stone beach,
my memory in the long grass.
I Watch Myself Loop
excerpts from whatever
Seasonal Affective Disorder
Sizzle and Chew
Satan's Skull Glows White Hot
When Lost in the Woods
Stasis in Ragtime
In Late November, There Are
Days of False Clemency