Michael E. Stone - Loneliness... this feels like a child forgotten at school.
You write with everything... let me stop.. you already know 
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because i can't make an omelet
I collect only male lovers.
They feel more certain,
and punctuated:
against my skin.
I know his leaving,
and I pour myself
another cup of coffee,
let the gnaw in my belly
remain in the messied
sheets where I fucked him
when all I really wanted
from him was breakfast
and light conversation
in the morning before
he forgot my name.
Michael E. Stone - 
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