Tinder, Philadelphia

I took a half a tranxene to stop myself

from binging and picking my skin, and my jaw

is still clenched. December… that’s a ways from now.


I’m trying to lose weight, but have to stop

getting shit-faced from drug interactions,

expensive mixed drinks, and weed chocolate.


I checked out orthopedic surgeon’s tinder

for another look at the face I’d seen twice,

hazy in mind. A part of his bio changed.


“I don’t usually do this either,”

I replayed in my mind, then imagined

Tinder, Philadelphia. “6’5,” he wrote.




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