Scarlet Begonias

I buried every memory of you out in the back yard today. The sky was yellow and the sun was blue. I said to the trees all that was left to say. I clutched a bottle by the neck and tipped it back into my throat. The second one made me a wreck, and in the dirt I wrote all the names I’d love to call you if I could say them to your face. But I don’t think I could trust my feet not to end up at your place.

So instead I called the birds every name in every book; hey you, go fuck yourself. But all they did was look.