(Be)coming Clean

I left

f r a g m e n t s


of myself on his clean and sober couch

clean and sober house not a speck of dirt
your ashtray mouth matched with mine
cigarette smoke billowing by the poolside


me down on the diving board

your body weighing on my chest

pool water murky from neglect


I’m out of cash out of breath
out of bounds
out of focus


eyes and blood and piss all clean but goddamn
there’s something about your weight on top of

mine as your tongue fights my taste buds


I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

I left

                     p i e c e s

of myself in his

aluminum garage
dirty sheets he

never changed


                     p i e c e s

in her front seat street curbside

we sat and watched trash trucks

absolve dirt from the city


kicking needles, bottles, pipes, and pain
I learned young

the dead will die

we set torches on my snake skin
exchanged butterflies for cockroaches

away we crawl