Remember when you bought me three pears
because you knew I loved them? One wasn't
ripe at all—took the jaw of lion to crack that
open. Another had gotten smushed under the
weight of my books, leaving pear juice and
residue at the bottom of my backpack, and the
last just made the cut but fell to the floor after
my second bite. We laughed it off, smiling like
lovers & I told you that you ****** at choosing
fruit. But yesterday I stumbled around the city,
intoxicated and nostalgic under all those lights,
trying to grasp any form of support, hoping it
would be your hand on the other end. Passing
the same spot from our first date and that time
we skipped school just to feel invinsible and so
in love, I realized that those three pears were just
some twisted reminder that we ****** at timing,
too.

gd