I couldn’t

be further from the truth now even if I tried.
We broke up

on Sunday and one week later, C tells me that a moon is now

orbiting her planet.
When we were young, I would always complain
that she was growing faster

my breath was taut
the rain was enraged
and the car was thick
and she had thought it through.

and on Night One I drank
myself from Tiny Beaches
back to Toronto
in my mind
to see you

and on Day Two, C swelled
at the sun and I remembered
our summers lining Queen Street
to see famous faces in June

and on Night Three:
a strummed aria,
twelve cigarettes,
mason jar tears,
warm bodies
and bear rugs.

C was too tired to drive home
the apathetic sun
and foreign limbs pressing
behind her eyes.