Voice memo

I don’t want to read a poem

I want to read your lips

speak frankly.

The only thing I can hold

onto are door frames

my body swinging in the air

as you pull at me

from all directions.

I will pour some regret

into my alcohol

drink it up

to forget you exist

in some other life

with some other wife.

I was pregnant 

four times

two haunt me

in daylight and darkness

for the secrets 

under the hem

of my pencil skirt.

I miss everything about you

I have this gift

of remembering

every detail of your face.

I don’t care who was before

or after

or during

I don’t care if you never reply

everyday I talk to you

in my head

and now I am getting used

to the silence. You have

a way of comforting me.

I made it up

and wrote it down

to make you real.

I am not the right person

to kiss. These voices 

need to sleep a while.

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