we
hung up our mutual fascinations
at the door, on coat rack hooks,
tarnished like the afternoon was
slowly pouring into.
speaking in short sips from *****
mugs, i realized i couldn't even
figure out how to like you, when i
thought i had loved you so dearly.
the story goes:
i bought your love, commercial
and diffuse. i bought your love top
shelf in ****** bars. i bought your
love at k-mart. the fluorescent
promise on the display case
cupped small hands around my
face, covering my faltered eyes,
and fed me to you on ornate
teaspoons like quartered
mandarins.
no.
i can't do this. i can't do this to you,
to me, to this grand ******* world;
this ugly spectacle of ceaseless
movement around us. i can't let
you be a mistake. i've collected too
many. you'll be lost. you are lost.
you're lost. you're lost.
now, i only remember you when
i'm trying not to.
*my heart is a river, and you were a
chemical spill,
were every fish,
every streambed,
you were every fleck of shale,
every mote of dust,
the cumulative gravity of
all galaxies in one instant.*
and what, now?
you're just gone,
and
i'm just breathing.