One Nightstand

Locked on top of damp newspapers
stained in blackberries and smeared
lipstick on the counter with keys
to the car to the house to the meds
go to bed.

Clicking ashes in glass ovals
under carpets hiding letters
or checks in coin purses
in purses in jackets in pants
get dressed.

Deplete batteries and toiletries
for the engine to start with “no”
return address but one stamp for
one-night-stands or one nightstand
to be alone.

Nothing good comes from this
run like one always did
undressed unless
read the paper
stay home.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
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