the doctors told him, he'd be gone by now
his lungs full of blankets: burnt, black, and bound
he buried his family in the backyard
flooded the basement, filled it up with tar
we borrowed their old clothes, and then we undressed
we stole a trampoline and made it our mattress
and slept with all the houselights on waiting for them to come home
he said: 'it's so much easier to believe in nothing;
it's so easy to wait impatiently to die.'
he pulled his pants around his ankles
and he showed me all the places he went purple
because he held too hard his own skin
since no one else would touch him
and i (s)mothered him, beastly
and we shared our severed head dreams
i held him where the sickness was
and i nursed him through the night
we stayed that way all night
(let's go to sleep now we'll talk about it in the morning)