i wanted to touch you--
but not just your hand.

and not just touch.

It’s been weeks,
and the refrigerator stands empty.
Except for our bed sheet,
nothing has remained on the clothesline-
everything else has been carried away
by the wind.
In the old parking lot,
strangers sometimes find bras and underwear.
Handkerchiefs and
your black socks.
It’s been weeks
and sometimes I accidentally reach out
to your side of the bed.

He emptied the glass
and ran back into the kitchen for more,
but he couldn’t save her.

i felt you
leave your
chair
and sit close.
to her.

(we dissected hearts
in class
today.)

before you left
you asked me
to go but
not with you

somewhere
farther

Politely, the drunken gentleman
loosened the knots of my dress.
His fingers were spiders and
everywhere they bit, I burned.

Turn the lights off. Go to bed. In the morning
notice how the clouds have moved.
Even the lawn is overgrown.
A bird hops outside your
window. You don’t
have to
stay.