The last girl I kissed

Is laughing at me now.

She wants me to know

That this is how it felt-

All the things that happen to me

And all the things that don't:

The martyrdom denied me

Drying on my Phaedra face;

The journey I don't take

Getting slick and frisky

With the first and last

Worst lover of the year;

Things turning hopeless

Like potatoes being peeled

Like the color of dry

Or the sound of one hand lying

Saying it knows how to touch you

Without breaking anything.