I like it when we shop together. All of us
at the heart of a snakeskin wallet. Grocery-bag ghosts
graze on footfalls. A wallet where we’re kept
like photobooth shots. There was a man
There are things I want to show you, like the empty pause that encircles desire. Or how Klimt knew that a woman bends her neck that far for a kiss only if she really wants it. I want to show you how quiet it gets when you’re in the company of someone who no longer loves you.
If I could go back to my birthplace, Lanciano,
wander all day up and down the corso,
stop by the cathedral built on the ruins
of a Roman prison and pray,
if I could