Angie did not
arrive to white
me out— alone
in bed, 3 am, I
smoked butts,
blue lights, haze-
like, spinning, an
angel’s halo— I felt
dirty, upbraided by
blueness, as if it
showed me what
I was past
entanglements,
redness in me
atrophied— I
would have been
better, I thought,
inside Angie,
butt-fucking.
That’s what
was in dreams
once the haze left.
