This split lip will remind me
If only for a week or so
Why I don’t like romances

that cardboard box full of my books
the suitcase that contains my clothes
will only hold my life
for a few days
while I resettle

And for an unspecified, though finite
amount of time
This record will be
Broken
And repeating
Those last few lines

But years from now I will be wondering
What was it that you said?
And in the wondering I will realise
As I run a thumb over my mouth

It doesn't matter at all.