Polyamorist

On lucky nights, sleep waits for me
with a new lover. Darlings,
I remember none of your names,
but sometimes, a face.

 

One time, you looked like Margot Robbie,
and saved me from a serial killer
dressed as my grandmother.

 

Later, you looked like the tech guy
from that time I tried theater,
and we toppled a global poetry conspiracy.

 

Last night, you looked like an old lover
from my waking life. Nothing happened,
and this one was my favorite.

 

 

It’s only ever me, in disguise.

 

I know how to be grateful
for fragments. The tendrils
that become an afterlife.

 

Still, I’m sorry for the waking
moment when I accept
forgetting. Sorry for the touches
I have ceded –

 

what lives I have made,
then unspooled.

 

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/83rhtu/caricature_of_a_southern_fire/dvk8eyp/ https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/83870n/dont_tell_birds/dvk7n4c/