You Should Say

—We’re not really us anymore

but that you still like that my eyes

remind you of river beds,

the way the clay dries.

And that the color of blood,

the color not the blood, makes

you squeamish. So cherries

jarred in syrup are out,

as are doughnuts filled

with raspberry jam, and to be

safe, I should probably stop

biting my lip until it bursts,

fleshy and sweet, before I kiss you.

And how you find that the first

few syllables of words

are far more preferable

to say than the last. So

that’s why you now tell me

everything in single syllable


Finally, you should say

that you once thought

you saw god but he

was the color of deep red

and so you

looked away.


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