touching your ribs is a slow death

there’s four empty coffee cups in the white room. / a bird flies into the bedroom window and dies because it can’t understand glass. they are unable to see reflections of light. i am unable to see reflections of. / i wake up tasting an invisible name. i wake up and there’s four empty coffee cups. she brings me a full one looking like an oil spill and i’m thinking toast toast toast in the white room. / last week we saw fireworks over the waterfront. she said something about dragons, i said something about boats on the dark water. / we saw a sign saying EXIT in throw-up green. / i don’t know, she says, i don’t know. / i lop off her pinkie and she disappears. i lop off her pinkie and i’m left with the sign.

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