“you’re a mess, you know?”
seems cold. but her voice is warm
and she’s laughing.

i’m laid out, splayed out on the carpet
of our dorm room floor,
dress inching up my thighs
sweat beading through concealer.

my head swings south,
swings down. too heavy now
with the breath it takes to laugh back

to laugh along
as if I hadn’t had that same thought.