The first day was
promised to be ours

but responsibility tore us apart.

your tongue tasted of
pabst blue ribbon
and regret

and I drank in
the time we never had

through a long glass neck
that I stole from my father

Our last summer
unbeknownst to us at the time
was riddled with fear of loss
and confidence in abandon

I never wished for you to leave
(I always knew I would)

But the sweet taste
of your tears

is far too much
like corona

and I can't handle
that kind of remembrance

so I lift the covers
off of our sweaty bodies

and drive "home"
with no good byes