i am the idea and you are the lightbulb.
my lullaby is your silence and yours is her breath.
i am a shooting star that’s run out of fire.
does she know you’re a liar?
i am hiding phone numbers like easter eggs.
i am trying a different saddle because i’m riding a different cowboy
but fuck me if the footprints don’t turn out to be the same size.
I am so sick of writing about men.
But it is the most accessible theme and the pressure of a poem a day limits me.