He kissed me with lips
that whispered I owed him.
Like he was doing me a favor,
by pressing his lips into mine.
Like maybe I should send him
a Thank You card afterwards.
Haven’t you had enough?
Haven’t you taken enough?
Haven’t you showed up unannounced
and ruined enough weddings
and spoke now,
so your peace didn’t have
to be held forever?
We were sitting at the corner of miserable, the streetlight flickering on and off like a soon to be dying firefly We sat cross-legged — Indian style, meditating on our raucous thoughts twisting like television chords The old black-and-white kind with alien-tinfoil antennas The picture in our ...
Do you remember when your arms were my home?
Do you remember when you promised you’d never leave me alone?
Do you remember when you promised?
Do you remember anything at all?
We stood still,
silent
and lulled by the play
of the waves chasing each other
and heated
by the electrical current of the fog coming in
and the change
it seemed to be bringing us.
We were walkers.