st. petersburg, florida

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Spencer Mirabal

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New heartbreak at a wedding
Is a mosaic paperboard coffee coaster
A sweet arrangement all soaked
Indigo eye bags
Cold-brewed sadness
My hair all buzzed off
Uncle John eats cake
Glee fills his cheeks for the first time in months
Grandma anne dances
Recently celebrating her 53rd 29th birthday
When she smiles at me, her eyes peel away
My chameleon skin
My moldy potato skin
Her smile wrinkles weave a basket to hold
My dying body
My colorless body
Cousin peter, king of the
Evening spring wedding in st. petersburg, florida
Watches his adoptive father Jeff
Give the sweetest, most remarkable speech
Neither of them know that the words are
Repurposing the rubble of me, once a marble statue
Into a shower in a homeless shelter
Into a post-funeral puppy
Into a selfless gift

Your damp blonde hair on my chest
A morning in Bozeman on your bed
Tucked in the corner near the window

All of Jeff's words crumble into expired porridge
It pours from my head out my ears down my body
Is my body even here right now? Is
Today the wedding? Is
It Saturday?

How many days have I been here

Later
Or earlier
Who's to say
I walk on an April beach the color of white
Only saved for master bedroom linens
The banyan trees sun kissed
Made both shades of chartreuse
Made komorebi
The sky a bath bomb of blue
Egyptian and royal and cornflower and powder
The clearest tide on my ankles is
A familiar left hand Running through my hair
From the back of my head to front
Only to comb back to the collective of the ocean

It feels like the night
When i confessed to loving the sensation of
Your fingers rubbing my earlobe
Only for you to leave me three weeks later

Linda asks Mom if she can open a tiki bar
When they move to key west together
My mom laughs and smiles at her wife
My mom will die in key west someday probably
I ask her if Linda is
The love of her life and her best friend
Because that's how i thought it was supposed to be
She's not sure what to tell me
What treasure map in rushed cursive to pass on to me

How many days have I been here?

Earlier
Or later
Who's to say
I am in a white, porcelain hotel shower
I stand in the corner where the water can't touch me
The mood set by music that
Cyclones into a liquid version of you that
Sticks its whole hand in my ear and
Chokes an ear infection into existence
Smack myself in the face with my
Palms like ping pong paddles so that
Maybe I'll have a seizure and
Shock these images of you out of my
Corroded VHS tape brain

A shower in North Austin
We stand in the corner
Teaching one another how to
Wash a lover's back kiss under warm, wet pellets

I'll never kiss anyone in a shower again

Depression isn't sadness
Sadness isn't an aesthetic
It's just exhausting
I hate seeing you everywhere you're not
My eyes hurt
I want to scoop my eyes out
Like stubborn ice cream
Scrapping them out
It's so hot here

How many days have I been here

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