The clocks spring forward,
and I’ll find myself feeling guilty
for enjoying the new, long day.

For sitting in a new car.
For sitting comfortably.

The breeze may delight,
rub my cheek the way you held me close.

The energy,
stored in these car batteries,
might be shared—
because I have none left.

I gave it all to you—
in the unfairest of worlds.

-

Sober,
crawling wounds.
Bedroom candlelight,
Nirvana.

Squash me—
the wasp intruder,
as winter finally ends.