we were children, really-
not used to touching and being touched
in those places-

we put our clothes back on
to go to sleep

2. ppd development, austin texas
to go to sleep
took hours-

eight men
on four pair of bunk beds-
i can tell you what twenty-six days worth
of desperation smells like-
the way it seeps into
thin mattresses and synthetic pillows-

those nights were excrutiating-
i would wake up to use the bathroom
three times a night,
climbing down the ladder,
awakening the man below me
every time-
listening to the coughs
and the snoring
of our roommates
as we waited for sleep
to return-

we celebrated our discomfort-
it was all we shared

3. a couch in the living room of a small apartment, montreal quebec
all we shared
was an omelette
in the morning-

i can no longer remember the name
of the girl who lived in the apartment
and the memory of what her hair looked like
over breakfast
has faded, too-

i never knew the touch of her hands,
the feel of her skin-
and if she told me her dreams,
her loves, her fears, well,
i’ve forgotten that she did-

she must have-
the night before
she must have looked soft,
warm,
like something to come
home to-
there must have been a reason
i made it as far as that couch-

i remember
the mushrooms in the omelette
were soft,
unappetizing-
i ate them that morning
so as not to offend-

i don’t remember
why i was concerned-
i had been more callous
toward lovers-