Sixteen Point Nine Fluid Ounces
Lunch drained
of tint. Dear.
That chest
rippled like
it shouldn’t.
Violin. That nod
salved me. Drank
liquid in arms
upright mattress
stalled dialogue.
From morn
till morn.
Of course, I wept.
Without prying.
Without slack.
And throughout
And not. Chlorine,
lightest foam.