I walk around this little pill like it will wake up and
shake me by the shoulders like George Bailey
Don’t you remember me pill?
sitting in my pocket
the frost you dyed my palms
from holding you so dear.
A tiny object that marooned
dislocated my retention
I took you with breakfast lunch dinner
with a slurpee mixed with UV Blue
I took you to movie premieres
for friends films shot on iPhone,
to the laundromat where you watched me
haggle an old man for a neatly packed sack of quarters
little pill stored next to the edges of drawers
playing patty cake with crumbs and dust
it doesn’t call or invite me out
but stares at the keyhole and my
greedy fingering cuticles
Joey C is a Cuban American poet from Seattle.