stale love

stale love
by chelsey storey
We are coke
in a glass, the ice
melts, waters us down.
My legs are starting to feel
like cactus. I want to plant
them somewhere in the house,
watch them grow.
We don’t know how
to interact anymore, so we’ll sit
on the couch and watch
couples have sex
inside burning buildings on tv.
I’ve forgotten
how to inflect my words
to excite you, so
I don’t use words at all. They
get lodged in my epiglottis,
like pieces of unchewed food, decay
like a dead bird
in the Texas heat. Water
droplets invade my skin
in showers alone, it feels
like your hand
on my back. I keep
praying the building will go
up in flames, just to feel
something different.