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Aug 2015
Empty pizza boxes, and green
Couch cushions
Chapped lips and sunburns
Staying inside because your air conditioning
Actually works

The ice rink that’s always cold, but you
Wear short sleeves anyway
Kissing you between sips
Of hot chocolate, kissing you
Between people cheering
And crowded stands and pucks in nets
And spilt popcorn

The time we broke up
And you cut off all your hair

I bought you a Boston Red Sox hat, so that
You’d remember our city and cover your scalp
While your hair slowly grew back

That night I was drunk
And stained your shirt sleeve with makeup
You never thought the shaking would stop,
I blamed the *****

Corsages and suit coats, tightening your
Tie to match the dress, which took
Months for me to pick out
You never got to unzip it

The morning after, packing up
At 7am because the house was
Too full and my stomach was
Empty

Crossing my arms in the passenger seat
And mumbling that maybe
We needed time apart

Only to come barreling back together, like
Lighting a matchstick
And kissing to relieve the casualties

The time I lost my breath
But found it in your arms
“you’re okay, I'm here… I'll always be here”
And just knowing, just knowing, just
Knowing.

That night in the backseat
When it felt like the first time with you
All over again, the wheels clicked inside the motor
everything fell apart, the world stood still
And then everything fell back together

While going through the trash, sorting plastic
Organizing bottles and classifying cans
I told my mother we had 10 days left
And my tears dripped into the recycling bin

Dreaming about losing you to a plane ticket
And pushing your number at 3am
Because I only have 12,960 minutes left, to hear
The heartbeat through your shirt
Jen Grimes
Written by
Jen Grimes  Burlington, Vermont
(Burlington, Vermont)   
  734
       ---, David Ehrgott, NV, Valeri Grimes, --- and 8 others
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