boy roomination
Kaia Polanska Richardson
last week
where your head lay dreaming
on my arms, on my neck
in dry pools of crusted spit
your bad breath lingers,
i haven’t washed since i last saw you.
faded brass fingers and copper hair,
the first time you brought me to your room.
to impress me
you plucked clumsily
strung out like the chords
older, not riper, i’m a sorry old bass.
kaia is, and always has been, an aspiring writer in vancouver, bc. she writes too much about her exes but not in a taylor swift way and can’t get herself out of her head. she has been previously published but not since highschool because no one reminds you to submit your stuff in college.