One
Easy smiles, little why's Remember that day
You said your first hi.
Two
Sweaty palms, quivering lips
Remember that day
We had our first kiss?
Three
Racing hearts, achy bones
Remember that day
You went again and left me alone?
Four
Tired eyes, hardened tongues
Remember that day
You promised to say goodbye?

One, two, three, four
All this promises
Tell me what for?

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

Just when I thought I've
written you out completely,
scratched your memory off the edges of my bones,
wrung the imprint of your lips from mine,
wretched out every word you ever poured into me,
tore your image from the hippocampus of my brain,
Just when I thought I had said
all there is to say about you,
about us,
about this,
Just when I think I have
finally left it all behind,
You come back to me.

In my dreams
in my late nights
in the bottle of wine I force myself to finish
in the pack of cigarettes I don't even like smoking
in my wandering mind
in the short seconds between each day
in all of my writing,
Your name is always the first thing to be marked down.

Lover, I can't forget
I am still spilling your tongue
from my mouth
You seep through my pores on hot days,
the freckles on my face remind me
of how you once found constellations in them,
you built galaxies in my eyelids,
lover,
the cleansing is only just beginning.

I am too full on our history
There is no empty when it comes to us
I will be forever ridding
myself of your contents
I thought the tidal wave of
still missing had passed
but here I am
drowning again.

Doggy paddling to stay afloat,
I have never been very good
at swimming. I am still
hanging on to the deflated
life raft that is your hand,
you let go of mine a long time ago,
it's about time I do the same.

I could be heartless
I could reply with who is this
And some part of you would shatter
knowing that I have attempted to remove you from my life but
the truth is you are still on my phone as much as you are on my mind
There, but not given much attention
Sure, you exist, but only quietly

I think of you sometimes like when my toes are touching sand or
when I have a glass of maker's mark in hand or
when I hear your name in someone else’s mouth
But to be completely honest
I am not broken over this

So your hello comes a few months too late and mine from a few months before has been left without response
I could say hey I miss you too but
that would be considered a lie
Maybe I do now and then but mostly
I only miss you when there is nothing else to miss

Like a vague memory of something that used to sit in the corner of my room
I know it was there but I don't remember much else about its presence
I don't know what to say after it’s been almost a year
I waited for you, too long but
I am not broken over this
Summer has passed and another is coming,
Maybe I will find another you in the next

When you send me a text five months too late I will not be heartless
I will say hello like time hasn’t added pressure on the ache, like
maybe I could still love you the way I did yesterday and
some part of you would be whole knowing a part of me is living in the past,
where we are alive together

It is Tuesday again and he loves a girl who isn't me.
In 14 days I will have survived another year.
It has been about a week since he hasn't responded.
I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks this heavily.

In 14 days I will have survived another year.
I pour my heart into an unopened bottle of wine.
I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks this heavily.
Half of my bed is on the floor, sheets included.

I pour my heart into an unopened bottle of wine.
It has been about a week since he hasn't responded.
Half of my bed is on the floor, sheets included.
It is Tuesday again and he loves a girl who isn't me.