I throw up from too much valentine wine

you replace my shirt with one of yours

& say it’s romantic

say like today

my headspin leads me

to the consoling cool of bathroom tile

you lie down beside me

press your forehead to mine ignoring my sick breath

sometimes when I say

thanks for loving me you say of course

but other times it’s a nose tip kiss or a you’re easy to love

& what am I supposed to do when this

overfilling thing that I am new at holding

scatters over the counter & leaks on the floorboards

with the lost salt & rice

you pinch my fallen eyelashes to help me wish on them

whether on the tops of my cheeks or

in the drunk glass of water you are helping me hold

Chrissy Martin is a PhD student at Oklahoma State University and has an MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago. She is the Poetry Editor for Arcturus and an editorial assistant for Cimarron Review. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Comstock Review, The Southern Review, Atticus Review, and Breakwater Review. Find her at chrissymartinpoetry.com. (2019)