it follows
and can’t be passed along—
the thought of you.
but everyone’s playing happy now,
so instead of scribbling
on a photo tucked
upon your windshield,
i changed the batteries
in Elena’s smoke detectors
and scrubbed my car
of the months
we were each other’s only one.

last night,
in separate homes,
we watched
that same old movie,
for she had time to bargain with.
i thought she’d hate it,
but she cried.
she saw me in the quiet Joel
like i once saw myself
before there was us.
now, i only see you.

i am Joel now,
“lord is god” again.
but as the days pass,
i miss your gods—
the ones from your fantasy novels,
from your crammed bookshelf,
and that big bed,
the taste of your kisses,
wine on your breath,
Pinot, swirling in the chair,
like the record on,
in the new house
i don’t sneak into anymore.

when the fire died
in the stove
that night,
so did the soft, delicate warmth
we held.
you made it easy to leave
when you said,
“i can’t do this anymore.”
you’re not a fighter,
you’re a giver—
so all my sins,
you forgave me
with your body,
our breath rising,
the simple love we made
in the small hours
before dawn,
as consolation,
even though you were sure
i was a liar.

i said goodbye
while you slept,
like i’ve done
too many times before.
heart in knots,
mind racing,
scared shitless
about what i’d find alone.

in my soul,
i wanted acceptance—
for the life we lived,
our love like a rare flower,
misunderstood
burned and broken down
by everyone else
because of how finite
it truly was,
and how the world
destroys what they fear
and what they find
beautiful.

how could anyone
love me again
without knowing
the way I loved you
the way I mourn you

i’m branded
with the memories,
the counting of days,
since that something began
on all hallows’ eve,
a force, devouring
every moment since,
so much so,
I don’t sleep anymore.

-

i wonder
what we could’ve done, sweetheart—
with one more fearless weekend
in any other city
in the world.