The Title of This Poem is
Sarah says she will show me how not to need and I think this is great until she starts removing furniture from her ribcage. She tells me she is the word excavation. Or maybe it was evacuation. Splitting is something we have always done to pass the time. If we were animals, she’d be a jackal and I’d be an egg. On my grocery list I write free range chicken but end up buying beef. Here are some truths: I am a collection of almosts. Sarah will give birth to a beautiful boy who will die in his sleep. There is a place underneath the riverbed where none of this is real.