With love


Take Two Before Bed

The summer is over and I still do not know how to


wake up in the morning. I fling my jeans over the desk chair


to be reminded that I have to get dressed. I’ve grown


accustomed to “get well soon” cards and unsolicited “I’m 


praying for you “ texts. I used to look for you in every room


but now I look for my glasses under the bed. I am always looking


up at the sky, or away from things. I am uncertain of what to look at.


I look at faces as they look at me and again as they leave the room. 


I mostly look at things that have given me up.


I am the house left unfrequented. Joey is playing a Spanish guitar behind 


locked doors. He is quiet whenever he hears the wood creak


in the hallway. A ghost, perhaps. My toothbrush is made with


steel bristles and I have become the party I do not want to go to. I cannot


go a day without having dreams of circle burns on my ring fingers


or of metro railways. A nice bed, perhaps. Every broken tail light


is a totaled car. Every time my heart is broken, I want to take a trip

to China or perhaps to Russia or Nepal! I may run out of places to go! 

My body has become a bolded question mark. 


A snake will not bite you if it is in your line of vision. 


In the same way, I keep you at the forefront of my thoughts. 


The man with the large eyes keeps giving them to me. Imposing in a public space.


I don’t step off the platform because I need to get away from him. 


I have laundry, dishes, and taxes to do. So I stay. 

Elizabeth Hsieh