When I walk outside in the dead of night, I think I will see your car parked in front of my house, like you used to do when you would throw rocks at my window. sometimes I think the glow of the stove light against the glass door in the kitchen will produce an image of your face, for it, I would lie awake and wait.
last breath before I sleep to make your body in a home I do not recognize. this woman is not your mother and I am not your lover, anymore.
I know the way to your house in my dreams, I keep the key in my pocket, but I can never pick it up and I wonder, when you walk outside in the dead of night, do you fear you’ll see my car parked in front of your house? like I used to do when we made love in your bedroom.