Cremators can't differentiate

Between stitches and dental floss


No amount of pity

Will make you legend


Toss these in a salad

Use brass tongs


Drizzle in children's tears

Falling off monkey bars


Hitting the ground

Feels like adulthood


Tastes of coffee

And a hint of Canadian whiskey


I left my soul

In a train station locker


Left my heart

In Massachusetts


As flakes dance down

They melt on my tongue


I wave my arms on the street

It looks like you


 Published at Twenty Two Twenty Eight