after Gone Girl
I am the space between

your thoughts.

The hiss, the twitch, the sound

of bones that crack in a double-take,

recollection. I am lost in a flood of faces.
I am the tattoo you try to hide,

the name you bury in your backyard.

I am roots and petals. The prickle of a thorn.

The green that gets grassier each day.
I am pins and needles. The missing

button of your favorite shirt.

The stench you just can’t get rid of

in pipelines, on walls you paint

over and over again.
I am the jacket you leave behind

when it starts to drizzle, when it

storms. The itch on your back

that you can’t reach.
I am high and mighty, Godlike, immortal.

I am permanence. The moon

that follows you everywhere. Nostalgia.

Find me in the ocean beneath your bed.
I am the song you hear on the radio.

Go ahead, scream. You remember

everything: the rhythm, the lyrics, words

left unsaid. I linger like an afterthought.
And when you see my name again

on billboards

on paper

on someone else’s skin

I hope it stings, forever.