Comfort

I say, Can you use the word comfort in a sentence?
She is leaning into me, shoulder pressing,
bright blonde hair sweeping into my lap
She thinks hard, crafting the perfect image

I comfort with my dog
she says simply

And all their freckles and sweet little hands
And their big wide dreams and pale faces
noses and cheeks cherry red from the winter air
Bring hot tears to my eyes in a tender rush

She continues to ponder
I go to sleep and wake up
and I still comfort with my dog

The Morning After

My lover drops me off in the driveway.
I lug my backpack inside,
begin to unpack all the loneliness
and split it up, dividing it into
small handfuls I can scatter
throughout the house.

In my kitchen, I eat a bowl full of guilt
and sip from a tepid glass of laziness.
Later, I’ll deny myself from taking
any pleasure, heaped steaming in bowls
before me.

I curl up in bed next to self-loathing,
sing it to sleep so I can
lie, wide-eyed, watching the shadows
dance on my ceiling.