[Goatsbreath]

Remember the time
after the bar
You had vomit in your hair and
I pulled it back away from your face
as you cradled the toilet

Then you just laid there
so helpless and fetile
Your eyes were a beckon
that screamed your misery
and it gave me the chills

I tried to pick you up
You just laid over
and so I sat on the cold bathroom floor
your head in my lap
my hand in your hand

I thought to myself
I would offer up my soul
If It could somehow ease you
I would give you my breath
If I thought it could be useful

Now I long for that night
Your pulse in my hand
I wonder if you ever felt the connection
The night I held you
and cried for you on the bathroom floor

[SoleMate]

A woman on my street
Told me love and vomit
Could not appear in the same poem.

Until a Monday dawning,
Bright with Loveshack promise
And aching with the bitterness

Of grief that drips like stale cooking fat
From the barrels behind the DQ Broiler,
I believed her lies.

Now I know that love is
Ever fresh, ever new, and yet
Always the same. Each soul

Turned inside out, and the sweet
Nourishment that gives us life
Crusting on a tile floor.