I drank your gnostic sour-mash in homeward-bound excitement.
Shame on you and yours for chewing with your open mouth wide when we, you knew, would see.
I may have said goodbye but do not, this morning kiss me to leave like some half-assed double-decker shoehorn, placing your thinness beneath my heelbone like a snail
Collin Garrity (He/Him) lives in St Louis, MO where he is renovating a building. He studied poetry at Warren Wilson College
