Dregs

Words by Natalia Prokopowicz

Don’t make me sad yet

pursuing the spark followed by a flame seems unoppressive.

Autmn jazz, verdant grey

waiting by the phone for you like a little kid. I’ll love you more, and I’ll always love you more as it should be

as it must. Deep in my jitters I’ll call out from the bottomless orange lilacs in a meadow. A cow, and some chickens

you planted a kiss on my cheek when it was dirty overgrown root’s.

No one stays long enough to sit with love no one stays long enough to try to.

Try to?

I like seeing empty coffee dregs where people have been.

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