the mail.

I will not recap my memories
like a some poor excuse for a queer trailer
We weren’t sale-worthy anyway...
Old fruit, no?
I got no background music for our reality
and real it was
and real its gone
and I accepted your invitations
to (here)
and (there)
but (nowhere) never came to the mailbox
knowing me I never checked the box
(sigh-
bill collectors, you should know...)
or maybe I was passed out
with last nights party
on my chest
and inner thighs
where my shame
lies,
where we used to lie
but I do know
that I decline
now
I’m sorry I didn’t check
my mail.