i am so tired tonight

taking off my
tan pants & button-up
& binder--

down to my boxers--

standing at drawn
window blinds & thinking
how close i am 
to being terrarium 

& how many nights
i have glanced up at
dorm buildings to 
see open-window creatures--

citrus monsters--
pink peeling skin

i wrap 
myself in the teal blanket 

the blanket 
i once bought for you
& then you gave back--

that was two years ago 
when i still argued 
for a belief in god--

when i was reading hunter
s. thompson in an attempt
to remember your voice--

have you ever
felt an ending before
it happened?

i don't mean like
predicting an ending--

i mean feeling it 

i know there are 74 hours
until i graduate college

but today i feel glossary--

i feel us epilogue-ing--

summoning the ghosts
of our freshman girls--

the ones who still eat 
Dairy Queen sundaes in the
graveyard--

red plastic spoons in
between teeth--

have i never
told you how terrified i
was of us?

of the old trees
whose roots i discovered 
deep in my thighs--

the first week--

their blood 
a kind of new ancestry--
of motherhood leaves--

i have grown less afraid 
of un-locked doors--

i leave mine open--

this is an invitation 
to god & other angels

or a 14 year old girls with long
brown hair & a desire
to wear red panties--

i'm feeling myself 
caught in all these 

stairwells who've 
gulped down my voice--

oh the ball-point
pens we would dig into walls--

oh the bricks 
who would fail us--

you reading me a poem 
you reading me a poem 

i listen to your mouth
as if it were a window
i would get to climb into--

i was terrified of us

of falling in love
with your teeth--

oh i did i did--

this is the feeling
of the sound of broken plate 

of the closing
of a bathroom stall door--

your porch giving me
more shadows than i deserved 

you don't live there anymore
but you always will--

& tonight i felt 
the mythical flyleaf-page breeze--

the numb-- the blank

read me a poem 
read me a poem 

the back cover
is that oak that
fell in thunderstormed glory--

what a way to end--

her carcass dismantled--

taken apart by
maintenance staff--

her rings still rippling
through damp earth--

how many years
did we touch
when we sat at her base?

she was selfish

for not kissing me

skin to bark
to moss