the last time you left my apartment
back in may i had so much trouble
turning the doorknob after you
had  been  the  last  to  wrap
your   fingers   around  it
t h a t  i almost didn't
leave     for     work.
now i  c a n  barely
sit on my couch
or stand by the
kitchen door
or  pick  up
mysuitcase
or    touch
my own
s  k  i  n
in   the
s po ts
y  o  u
have.

that acrylic portrait you painted of
me is in the garage because it kept
falling off the wall as your ghost
moved silently through the halls
and unhinged the nails, you stood
in this room and opened the windows
blew the frames down and told me
to forget about you.

i wove a flower crown
for you; how could i
forget? i want to tell
everyone how much
i love them for all
the things i cannot
say to you, i'm
still trying to
write you
down.

i am afraid of my own
of myself, of the things
my dad dreams, of no
answers, of asking
questions to my
pillow at 2 am
out loud and
my voice
sounds
so soft
and mistaken
like it really shouldn't
be there.

in this dream I stood at
the gated entrance to the
way we used to be,  a
green trellis shaped like
a star and the old house
where we were so often
was boarded up. I wanted
to call and ask you to lunch
but we had just been on the
biggest journey and it occurred
to me that you needed to rest
so I stood at that entrance until
the dream
ended

let's be honest
sometimes I turn
towards the wall at
night and close my
eyes, I can see your
hairline, a fracture
of scoliosis in your
curved spine, I can
almost trace
the bumps of
your vertebrae
through that
thin cotton
sweater

let's be honest

you start to turn over
before I lose you in the
geometric dark, sometimes
our eyes play tricks on us and
we see colors, well, sometimes
mine play jokes and I see you.

back when I still touched you
your ankles were always caked
with dirt, you told me that
no matter how much you scrub,
you're not gonna get it off and
you'd watch me intensely as I
took your heels in my lap and
washed your feet over and over

I wanted to
make this
longer but
there is no
pretty way
to ask if
you have
fallen in
love with
someone
else
yet.

Make a wish on your necklace clasp
he's thinking about you when you
sneeze I wonder if you see hallmark
cards and think of me, if you read
Monte Cristo and wish I was
Haydée, if you grow flushed
during that chapter of The
Great Gatsby where your
voice broke twice and  
you let your head fall
back, I miss the ways
I could make you
do that.

we are the outliers
the ones with plain
souls, the girls they
loved before they
were found, we
are the hearts
before the
discovery
we are
not
the


discovered.