Whereabouts Unknown
Eli Coyle
My face feels like an emotional relief map
forever wet
My pockets are full of handkerchiefs
that never dry
My green corduroys lie crumpled
on the hardwood floor
saved for later
our bodies wrapped
in the wax of each other
In the mornings the sky cracks open egg clouds
raining private rain
cloud hidden
whereabouts unknown
where I live alone like pith in trees—
mindless like tumbleweed
mindless like sages
Some days I carry on like a responsible hermit […]