untitled no. 57

wet paint smeared across the room
where you hand me your annotated
copy of ariel, dulling and stilling. you
get the lines a bit wrong and i notice
without pointing it out. don’t say a
word. it has been a while since i’ve felt
anything. bones come into contact with
a hardwood floor in a room that smells
like spray cans and chemical madness
i read too much on the train and missed
my stop, dizzy from the intriguing lagoons
and carnivals which would become my
favorite passage i had found my favorite
passage i found my favorite passage
on my way to you.