I pack my bags under the neon lights and
the motel walls whisper to me, stay
the stray cats i've been feeding slink out from
under the bed and
behind the closet
my muscles are weak they're shrinking under the
violet glare
the stray cats curl around my ankles and
write something in black italics
in black cursives only god can read
under ultraviolet light
they spell out stay and the motel walls
cry in peeling wallpaper
the honey lemon smell the bedsheets are soaked in
waft like white jasmine candles
like
some new jersey sweat soaked dress
drenched in summer fear
i answer his phone call on the first ring;
i'm on the flight now, the turbulence reminds me of ur name
i think i see my face in the black glass
reflected back and the neon motel sign outside
sinks further into the black sky
a blue dot in the velvet
a black bruise above his collarbone
he has
angel eyes and the scowl of a lion
the scar around his waist like
some historic rope burn
cursed to lay on the ocean floor
like an anchor that chose to let go of
the hull with the barrels of explosives
packed with black powder
white powder
the stars click their cards against the mirror
they play darts with syringes and
he opens his eyes mid flight
the moon rockets through the plastic window
the seatbelt sign flashes like
the neon sign outside my window
he calls me again
but i don't think that's true
fifty million feet up in the air
the pilots cut off the blue line he zaps me
the pilots they
clamber over the cockpit controls
through the curving glass
they let go
and sink to the ocean floor
and he opens his eyes mid flight
i pick up on the first ring
i don't want to miss u any more than i should
old habits are found again
the tape is
discarded and the bubble wrap bound
china gold figurines
they dance again in the neon light
the stray cats clamber across the bed
the moon is
somewhat fragile
and
he gets another bruise above his collarbone.
