memo to a particular poet

i am going to bed, now
at 7:08
to lessen the ache
of being awake

this is a poem
this is the business
of us, artists
this is our “business correspondence”

inform a collaborator
a coworker – if you will,
of your passwords and process
before taking those pills

my corazón has nearly bled-out
migrating across my torso, my limbs,
and my crown
settling into my cornflower blue eyes
bloodshot — with or without drops and disguise

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