you said ‘i love you’
and kissed me hard
and i melted into the touch
that had grown to be so
comfortable, reassuring.
you said ‘i love you’
and i never thought
you would disappear
into thin air, without a goodbye.
you said ‘i love you’
and it haunts me.

you said ‘i love you’
and i thought that meant more
than ‘i’ll last a few months
and then you’ll never see
my bright green car again.’
you said ‘i love you’ and
i nodded out in your arms
after too much vicodin.

you said ‘i love you’
but didn’t tell me
how long that would last.