we keep arms like soft shields,
folded around the things we love.
not you not i
will ever be enough.
shower daily,
brush teeth,
rub smells onto skin like cold touch.
shave face with a thin blade.
put all of it in boxes,
every single drop,
then take them to the deepest corners
of the darkest closets,
listen to the clothes hangers clanging calmly.
i sat behind my coats,
they smelled like old winter.
my knees against my chest
held together with lariat arms.
i smelled the dark,
and the dust coated cardboard,
and heard the hangers humming,
they sang,
"nothing is sacred here
outside redemption."
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