home life

Used to Live, II

the smear I drew with off-pink lipstick
on the flocked wallpaper
the torn underside of the mattress
the odd-smelling crease where the dresser
and floor meet, left side

my brother in the backseat,
staring out the window at nothing
the bed of a yellow pick-up truck, night time

tucking your head under my chin
clock gears hidden under the sofa cushions
sunburnt square of skin between my shoulders


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