I am a bridal registry at a sex shop.
You are a plane crash.
I am the dental records used to identify your corpse.
Our teeth are the same, you know.
All teeth are the same, you know.
I am counting stitches in my arm
over & over because I keep forgetting
where I left off.
You owe me fifty dollars
but I would settle for a phone call.
I tried to unravel your sweater
and I am sorry.
You have taken to drinking alone
on Tuesday nights.
There is nothing but static when I turn on the television.
There is a bird outside my window
that I have the vague urge to strangle.
You have never shot a gun
and I sleep with a rifle next to my bed
in case you come back.
Please come back.
Amy Saul-Zerby is a Philadelphia-based poet. She is managing editor of Voicemail Poems, as well as multimedia editor for APIARY Magazine. Her first full-length collection ‘Paper Flowers, Imaginary Birds’ was published by Be About It Press in January 2017, and her work has also appeared in TheNewerYork, Painted Bride Quarterly and Spy Kids Review.