a poem a day for a year #248

by Amy Turn Sharp


we would make bad habits in five minutes
listening to Nick Cave croon
the sunlight licking at the walls
all we had was time
it's supposed to take 21 days to break the bad
but here I sit thousands of days
away from then
and someone puts certain music on the radio
exact arrangements of notes
some timbre some texture
and I'm yours
all over again
my hands everywhere
my heart unfolded
clocks broken
the house on fire