romanticizing
by Charlotte Covey
our house: black
shutters, white siding. flowers line
the first floor windows. i find
your suitcase swollen under our bed (just in
case), take your favorite
shirt, wrap it ’round my waist,
chest, neck. every day
you come home, loosen tie, kiss
cheek, check pulse. you find
me, bleach to mouth,
knife on. something. you pour my
pills in pink cups, water me
along the marigolds. pink
to my lips, your purpled
eyes on mine– when the cup
drops, your storm.