places to store unwanted devotion
Slide between books
where it still flutters to catch the light.
Transfer under upturned glass to toss out the window
where it has no chance to catch its balance.
Shove into the side door pocket on the driver’s side,
amid the umbrella and window wipes.
Stuff under the floorboards, and secure with silver nails,
amid black scuffs from all the pivoting,
because if I am vigilant, this agony will stay sloshing somewhere
somewhere around my knees, if I drain it away
with a well-placed needle, citing grateful, grateful
for what I still have,
you will never ever
see a drop of this.