Mary C Sims

Upcycled

His wrist in my jacket, I said, What friends do.
It’s what––& there’s so little to thank when I think 

to thank it. On the roof, he’d said, Really close
to getting out of here. & now I wrap fists 

by his window, sky uglied violet & him laughing
on the couch. I water plants in different apartments 

& train myself to take. Once, I walked alongside
finish, saying, Some place out there. I know it. 

& like absence begun again, I splice each apricot
to brightness.

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Mary C Sims is a recent MFA graduate from the University of North Carolina, Greensboro and a former poetry editor for The Greensboro Review. Her work has appeared in wildness, Josephine Quarterly, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, The Carolina Quarterly and more. Currently, she splits her time between working as an editor, visiting art museums with her sister and laughing over blurred Polaroids with friends. Find her on Twitter @mcathes