What am I if not the current state 
of my bangs? Card-carrying member

of one clever little gang, side-eyeing
the hummus, eating the crow.

On Saturday mornings, I hear 
my neighbor having sex with someone 

who really enjoys Saturdays. 
I serenade Jess over the phone.

Everything sounds like Jenga to my ears, 
painstakingly built worlds falling 

apart. Ian says love and cats are
at the center of this earth.

My therapist says this is my time
and I can use it however I want.