He used to live in the corners and creases of my life
The corners of my smile
when I fell asleep at night
He lived in the dusty sign that said, “Stop Shop”
Down the hill on the corner of second and Knox
He stayed alive in the phone that I dropped
when we found an empty fountain
and sat on top.
But we died on cold pavement
the next fall.
So now he lives in the songs that I deleted
and demons I’ve defeated
In the holes of worn out shoes
that are of no good use
The letters are no longer written to his name
and for once
I have nothing more to say.