It’s alright. I’m used
to being alone. I thought
that I was crazy
about you but you just drive
me crazy. but Your body

whispers to me in
rhythms, drags lips across my
skin and you make me
whole again. Our hip bones dance
in a perfect uneven

harmony and drunk
teeth grind into stretched necks and
I wake covered in
bruises, forehead kisses, to watch
you walk out the door into

mornings sick with the
silt of liquor, the backwash
of broken hearts. It’s
alright. I’m used to being
alone. It’s alright. It’s fine.

 

[ write what you would never say to someone. four stanza tanka. ]