I don’t know what to call us

by Orion Centauri

I find that I look best
under dim dive bar lighting
with two plastic cups
of cheap red wine
swimming through my intestines
and a rush of endorphins
making it hard to discern
my intoxication from my lust

I’m texting everyone
to tell them that I love them

In reality
I only
texted
you

I have been reading
over your answer
again and again
for the past 72 hours

I’m sitting on the g train
and I’m late to work again
I just spilled coffee
all over my chin and neck
I should have gotten it black because now there
is an alarming amount of bees
licking the glucose off my bare skin
I wonder how they
will react to the caffeine?
I think one just stung me
this bee was so offended
by my inability
to be held accountable
for my actions
that it killed itself
just to spite me

I’m holding a funeral
for this bee
under a blossoming
magnolia tree
at the cemetery
five blocks away
from my apartment

I invited all my friends
in reality I only invited you

We are burying the bee
and I am wearing tyrian
my hands are
covered in dirt
and I am laughing

I kern my neck
all the way back
and you are gone

It is
raining
and
you
were
never
here

The scar the bee
left above
my cupids bow
is pulsing

I am
alone
and
it is
more
noticeable
now

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