pull the skin back, a floating buoy
it bobs around forever; blood clot 
in a Dead Sea. 
maunders, never gone. 
Or maybe, it is the lighthouse that keeps guiding me towards rocky shores 
no matter, 
I surrender 
to the memory 
Of you and me
Of teacups in a cupboard 
and a roasted hen
cold city nights; the ugly things
summer jealousy
I have not forgot
your glasses snapping beneath 
the force of my rage that you don't love 
me 
Until you did again 
the dead bird I housed 
inside me for 3 weeks, four days, six hours, 
27 minutes and the rest of my life 
Until you will again
the lies I tell myself before I go 
to sleep
swallow the dregs 
salty, red 
they are mine to keep