She uses the vacuum she brought
in her tight gray shorts beneath her
black-and-white splotched top Jackson-
Pollacked, but not in the way Mary
Frances said I Jackson-Pollacked
her after our first night when she
said I would need a better reason
to ask any girl to come over– so,
do you want to meet my cats?
How many times
have I died? How many alive?
I was a ghost. A breath. You
caught my scent. Made me flesh.
It has a texture like roof tar
when I tell her I don’t even
enjoy Bundt cake, I just wanted
to do something productive with
my day after being laid off.
In the beginning was lake
salt on our skin, wind deep
breathing with us in grass.
