A phantom of all dreams is responsible for water weight.
If you speak dirty to me will I need to shower more often.
Here is what will happen: a yawn, a discourse of sexual appetite, childhood carvings from shoulder blade and razor blade, training belly to digest an entire apple including seeds and you know they are poison, will cut hair, will gather one to four more tattoos, will travel to another continent to get over you, will return back to brooklyn and find you waiting wearing gloss of photographs, more poems, return of habit such as smoking, late-night food binges, cocaine or pill thievery, awkward self-pity.
You will speak your language to someone else and I will gather another disease that cannot be pronounced.
A surprise like tulip twisted out of homemade garden on a late night walk back to crown heights.
As organs get known by new people, you will fade from memories.
I’ll be left, trying to get it right.