2 Poems for Lovers Long Gone
I had to sit down on the floor of the sixth story balcony, smoking a cigarette in the plush hotel bathrobe.
I didn’t really want to plummet to my death,
but the novel fact that I could consumed my mind.
With no one there to stop me,
I could feel gravity running through my hair.
but I still insisted upon setting down the paper plates, stacked with marshmallows, chocolates, cookies,
and stalking the halls to double, triple check,
my brain racked with visions of intruders.
It reminded me of