unclasped

and darling,

there’s something about

the way you let me in

there’s deadbolts in my chest

chains weighing down my brain stem

and safety pins embedded all over my skin

.

but darling,

when you undo me completely

i rarely find myself bleeding

does that say something about

the way i left myself open just a peep, still

secretly hoping that you would quietly sneak in?

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something about an epiphany, or some other thing

lie in wait and go through fifty packs

of cigarettes, shaking one leg in idle seismology

and rattling spare change—

somewhere out there, there’s a beggar

ordering fancy coffee with your name misspelled

on the side of the cup, and the barista

makes sure to spill tiny drops on the counter as she hands it away

just so she has something to distract

herself with, when café rush hour takes over

into infinite passive stretches of replayed cheap hits and blasé

mundanity. perhaps you have the same get-out-of-town

ignition ambition as her, but the

patience is calibrated just a little bit differently; tomorrow

the beggar might steal a millionaire’s wallet

up there around west street and the barista might

finally get her big break

being a famous model for some shady automobile company

but you’d still be here,

making philosiphised fancies and abstract art

with acrid puffs of nicotine smoke

and praying for lung cancer,

composing fanciful jingles with the last three quarters

in your pocket that clash dissonantly against the fifty-third replay

of hey jude in a single godawful morning,

and hoping that perhaps this time,

your stupid name will finally be spelled right

on that beggar’s coffee cup

when you drop a measly dollar on it by his usual spot tomorrow—

oh well, a man can dream, anyway.

you’ll get up. you’ll snuff out the dying glow of your cheap pall mall.

you’ll dust away the ashes on your long-suffering knee.

you’ll drain your glass, shut your whining laptop, and leave a pathetic less-than-20% tip for the missing barista.

and you’ll get up and go.

as soon as your sleeping leg feels better.

okay. fine.

any moment now.