you’ll find specks of her under your fingernails
you dug her out of the bad days, the sad days
every single one of her mixed up catch me if you can’s
so she’ll be there
(even after you've scrubbed your hands clean)

you’ll find waves of her in the Pacific
and that water’ll taste like fine wine and her peppermint teeth
you’ll stop going to the beach
because it only feels like drowning

you’ll find traces of her in the pen marks of every novel you own
you never thought she’d read every one of them
(you never thought she’d leave either, did you?)
burn the books and buy a Kindle

you’ll find her curves wrapped around your steering wheel
static blaring from car speakers, it sounds like memories
but she’s not the crumbs in your cupholder
(you’d drive for days to keep her around)

you’ll find strands of her in your shower drain
oh how you loved her long hair
and the way she shined, unruly girl
can’t blame her, she’s conditioned to run

and someday when you can’t stop seeing her
you’ll sit there and think about her copper wire spine
(that stopped twisting itself over for you)
and sing about the way she lingers and lingers and lingers . . .