leftovers

i toss the red pepper seeds from our plates

into the wastebin like salt over my shoulder

      you touched last night and i want

to remember every way our love is a garden

pruned in the bathtub until our bodies brim

      with suds and pasta sauce and wine

is only grapes that became enamored under

the hungry friction of their lover’s kissing

      you has become my favorite dinner

to protect in Tupperware so i can still savor

your love on my tongue at the breakfast table.

Poem originally published in issue 35 of New Moon Magazine at the University of Iowa (April 2024).