Ode to Insomnia and Last

 
 
I wake up
with my feet bleeding despair
under your last salty kiss
that night on the staircase –
my toes covered in sand
which you sweep
away with your hair
before my sobs
spill over the railing

I wake up
with your broken heart in my coffee cup
screaming orange revenge
at the last black tear
in which I drown
the freckles
on your hand caressing my knee
while we watch
Gael García Bernal
riding a motorbike
down a mossy hill
laughing

I wake up
trapped
in Salgado’s black-and-white memory
of starved dusty promises
with your leg
spread across my belly
my breasts scarred by your tongue
and the ghost of tomorrow
curled up under the bed
broken
by your last guilty goodbye