LITMIR.BIZ

      You Don’t Have to Choose But You Do

      Would you rather be the sun or the moon?

      Would you rather sing like Jenny Lewis

      or Fiona Apple? I gave you a box from Lithuania

      and inside it wind and rain. And beside it

      space for another box. This isn’t a nest

      but a to-do list I vaguely mention

      as if I know what I’m doing tomorrow.

      The alarm will go off and I’ll sink

      into resignation that light isn’t the ocean

      but it almost is. I’ve replaced living

      with swimming and reading Anaïs Nin.

      I like when she shuts down Henry Miller

      for correcting her English, trying to ply her

      away from her diary. I read their letters

      and imagine them both on Facebook Messenger—

      all the dick pics he’d send; her, chatting up

      several men at once and never recycling material.

      Would you rather be blood or stone?

      Would you rather receive or give a dick pic?

      Be moved or be the one doing the moving?

      Between us a storm

      and two completely different skies.

      We Are Stupid Little Animals

      when I eat dirt

      I look you in the eye

      and I see you see me

      eat dirt

      and when I say a word

      the sound waves

      touch your face

      and light up your brain

      you twitch in a way

      that says okay

      and then I say okay

      we take a breath

      and jump into a kiddie pool

      full of leaves and moss

      it smells like plastic

      and mould

      this isn’t a dream

      you say you deserve better

      as if I haven’t heard that before

      as if I haven’t heard that before

      from you,

      you and your toy boat

      lodged in the sink

      I need to get out of this square

      we built for feelings:

      two floodlights pouring

      into the sky

      a text message, a supernova

      or maybe a satellite,

      the world or maybe

      an avocado husk

      I dropped my ring

      beside your bed in the dark

      you looked for it

      and said, oh no another poem

      How to Enforce Boundaries with Physical Geography

      you packed condoms

      forgot underwear

      pulled your cock out

      in the hotel hallway

      and later wrote

      to say you admire

      my emotional vulnerability

      Rebecca described you

      as wiggly in

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