Orange Ceramic Geckos
I agree to meet with your boyfriend after your death
We go from coffeeshop to Mexican restaurant
Because he tells me he doesn’t want to stop talking
I spot three orange ceramic geckos arranged on the wall
And think how in the past I would have taken a picture
Since this was the kind of thing I would send you for no reason
I decide to take the photo anyway
A record of this kind of moment
When I think to think of you but can no longer reach you
Burn
I burn my wrist
badly it seems
removing the tray of quesadillas from the oven
and I don't care
I tell myself I don't care
it does not feel like I care
but I run it under a warm tap
just a moment
then we continue talking
about nothing
nothing and more nothing
and it's lovely
distracting from what is necessary
me grieving
which is so far from the body
it does not matter if I burn
Mark Danowsky is a Philadelphia poet, author of the poetry collection As Falls Trees (NightBallet Press), Editor of ONE ART: A Journal of Poetry, and Senior Editor at Schuylkill Valley Journal.
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