You were always tablets and talk
and I was always plaid and not so talk
but June taught that things exist between us and
red strings exist between us and
awkward gestures, slurred words and tired heels
all can heal us
and boy, your name is as common to me as my own
and just alone, an open sore
you dont know
you occupy the spaces between my
flesh
and blood
and bones
naked wounds, uneasy tones