“A BRIEF INTERLUDE It’s been three years since I’ve spent the night with someone who liked me enough to get breakfast in the morning. Still, I spread my heart thin like butter on toast, hoping someone else will come along and snatch it off my plate. Still, I stumble half-dressed out of other people’s apartments and treat myself to coffee on the way home. This is not a poem that seeks to make a spectacle of loneliness.”

“A BRIEF INTERLUDE It’s been three years since I’ve spent the night with someone who liked me enough to get breakfast in the morning. Still, I spread my heart thin like butter on toast, hoping someone else will come along and snatch it off my plate. Still, I stumble half-dressed out of other people’s apartments and treat myself to coffee on the way home. This is not a poem that seeks to make a spectacle of loneliness.”

— Trista Mateer