Yellow Dress
if i woke up from
on the kitchen table
and saw her standing
there at the fridge
pouring tomato juice
into her bloody mouth,
wearing nothing
but that yellow dress
she cut in half
last halloween after walking
to the river where she
said the most beautiful things
about dancing with the moon
right before throwing up
something black & fleshy-pink
on the rock where i was sitting,
& we walked back to eat
a fried egg standing
next to the stove where
she would light her cigarettes
swigging shady ladys, silently
listening to my developing dissatisfaction
& some sort of lingering love,
if she was here right now,
staring blankly at flies buzzing,
i wouldn't be surprised,
even if it has been three years since she died.
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