Heartburn

I took out the trash when you left.

There are metaphors for these situations but nothing comes to mind tonight. There’s only eggshells and coffee grounds and crinkled yellow wrapper from that horrid food we got last week. It was oily. It gave you heartburn.

I think I am losing at this. This ending thing.

There’s a gap in the line that in my mind still reads unbroken. There’s a gap and I cannot seem to find the pencil so I could just join the two ends but where is that damn pencil I can’t find it I can’t find it I can’t find

I found your comb, though. What was it doing in the drawer? I found a pen cap. You’d always lose them. I’d always find them in improbable places.

I found your comb I found your comb I found your

I make an effigy out of the trash I took out.

I pour some kerosene on the heap and let it burn. It smells atrocious.

You’d have hated it.

I hate it now, for you.

The featured image is Suspiria by Sachiko Kuru.