“BIRTHDAY EVE”

I hate even numbers, 

so I might fall tomorrow, 

but, my dragonfly, this one 

is a palindrome, let us rejoice.

the gift is a new diagnosis,

little black devil sitting pretty

in between my ribs, its skinny 

legs swinging childishly, grinning  

it pulls heartstrings, it climbs

the knots in my throat, it leaves

smokey desolation behind as it

frolics through my soul, smirking

it lodges in my anatomy, burrows in 

my brain, picking favorites, wreaking 

havoc, the impulsive selfish addict 

dumps cigarette ash down my nose,

I sneeze and I feel empty.

the wish is to be clean, 

to wipe away the years, to

have the tide wash out the 

grime, leave me salty, pure 

and naked like a worm

on the shore of possibility, 

to receive the baptism I never got, 

the chance to look at the sky and 

see something, anything

amongst dimming stars and weird

fish flowing through constellations

of loss, perchance to find the bravery

to believe that hearts persist.

Is any of it real? What is real 

is a cabinet stacked, now I must

keep track of the blue, the green, 

the white and the pink, I must

remember to swallow but forget 

to remember what happened, 

put shoes on and walk, don’t talk,

feed body, keep standing please

on your own two feet,

don’t lean on those, on this,

on that, on them, on it.

my sweetness, my moonlight, my dear tangerine,

the earth took another trip around the sun, 

where did you go? 

gained a year, lost my appetite, 

I’m a palindrome now,

and I hate even numbers.

M.L. 1/20/25