What Reminds Me of You Now and Then
cigarette burns
oak trees wide enough
to hold our bodies
on the pillow
florida oranges
juiced in the hotel room
marijuana
empty bottles
whiskey barrels & water hoses
glass eyes
pastures full of cow patties
bees & red barns with texas
flags & abandoned lofts
dirty mirrors
hay bales at dusk
when the coyotes howl
laughter that stretches out
your fun house ribs
into something too small
for human
sleeping beside you before
we understood bathing with you
before we understood
dominos on the table
in the kitchen
bodies that are just
bodies & not lovers
too many kids
& too few rooms
comfortable silence
men who swallow fire
who don’t
trust
come home