These words rattle around, as words do,
flirting with capture, and I am chasing them with my net extended,
I have made an empty space for them,
kept a light on and a key
in the place where we agreed we would leave one.
I feign indifference
it is an old but effective ruse.
declared a moratorium
on all unfinished and
for just a week or so more
of the last days of summer and I am
becoming a flower
soaking them in,
and getting high off of peanut butter and honey
on white bread
at two o’clock in the morning.