Conrad -

A hounds-tooth coat

Pockets are bulging with Nembutal, bought from some doctor

Who also was bought to keep those pockets full

The face was lost, partly recovered

I’m half asleep, half in a frenzy

One side tries to smile enough for two

Pictures remain, split at the image

Cupboards well-stocked with things to diminish

The pain that comes with clarity and mirrors in well-lit rooms

She checks in, in dwindling daylight

A week up front, asks not to be bothered

The registry will show her mother’s name

Locks the door, sits on the bed just a minute before she picks her purse up

from the floor

She’s pulling out what she needs

Warming her wrists in promising water

Somebody’s love, another one’s daughter

Readies herself, apologizing to the motel maids

Double edged and super blue, vertically letting the life from you

Casting a new darkness through the room

Angels lay their odds on you, know not quite what they should do

Only that they can’t quite tear themselves from the view