Voicemail Poems

we're crying in a costco parking lot fiending for that intimacy we once felt because every so often we lose it and then i get depressed when i think you deserve much better sometimes i think i deserve better too most of the time it feels like i am already holding all the good that's out there large and fragile in my arms i hold on for dear life 
 the woman parked across from us is staring i wonder if she's ever felt like a failure 
 on my knees on the stairs that lead up to your father's bedroom we've unearthed that intimacy and it takes us away as usual so easily in the dark of the oakland warehouse the delight of the freedom to touch taste tie no time to worry about whether my roommates will hear us laughing when the cheap ikea bed gives up and we keep fucking on the debris sometimes i'm so ashamed at the pleasure of the way you fill me in these moments 
 on the stairs in my mouth in my hands i wonder if we could really feel things all that differently 
 the car seats are reclined as far as they can