When you stood in the doorway
the night everything was ending,
I thought about how you stood right there,
that very first time.
And how you looked different than you did then.
You kissed me
and your mouth tasted like you hated me.
I think maybe you did.
I think maybe you do.

The sun came pouring in through the branches of that big oak tree and I told you that it made the leaves look like they were winking at us. I laughed and you rolled your eyes saying it was a childish thing for me to say. Saying a tree is only a tree and that the sun can’t make the leaves wink. After that I saw an oak tree with the sun pouring down on it. It made me sad. The sun no longer made the leaves wink. No it seemed the sun just slipped right through them and fell straight to the ground. I had wished you were there. I would still laugh and you would still roll your eyes. But at least you couldn’t say I was childish.