When you love me like a 

latchkey kid, Locked in a 

sock drawer, tucked behind 

ears, all your wild things hidden within 

reach. Asked me to 

sit on my hands and cross my 

legs, but mind over matter to P’s and 

Q’s when in our Sunday 

best we swim in a can of alphabet 

soup; spell I love you with every 

letter in the dark fold our 

tongues into fortune-tellers like there is a 

future to be told smack our 

lips in salivation for this first 

sign of life, 

before it’s put to death, back row in the 

pantry where it’ll rot. 

a stench 

    You can never get 

out of the cabinets.