i’ve rotted in eight bedrooms
in five houses and three apartments, 
over four cities and two states, 
eating twenty four years and seven boyfriends.

i’ve gone moldy in sheets 
and damp on desk chairs, 
i’ve grown mushrooms under fingernails 
and mildew between molars. 

voyer to the rotting girls,
watch their knees and elbows go green and furry
as they sculpt hollows in their mattresses 
and cracks of silence against morning bird calls.