hot head

get out of the pin that I slip from my hair
and the suds that make heavy the bath

the word 'you' is so loaded
it's a ring on my tongue

that makes 'last time' come out 'lasth–'

my toothpaste tastes like your smoke-breath
tried to smell.

those best songs are like taffy
that's old

I know parts of these rooms in
a too-real way

and my hot head stays warm in the cold

hey! there's only one reason I'd
remember the day
that I forewent a party for this

and just so you get it I'll make it
real plain:
your cool words are not something I'll miss.