after “Splendor Hour” by Kim Addonizio
Am I somewhere in this body? The “I”
once reprimanding me for indulging lost
men? When you say love, I hear love. You
mean like.
My eardrums damaged from that
way I bend, thumping tongue bruised like a grape
in mouth. Someone can be salvaged. You jawbreaker—
I’m hopeful. Maybe neglect blooms into a kind of missing I’d
repurpose into thirst. Honesty saved,
folded, tucked inside my belly somewhere for