To me, the
only thing left after a while was that night we watched documentaries up
through morning and then you kicked me out.
You opened up your screen door and threw me off the porch.
It was summer then and I drove home whistling muddy waters down the pike.
And that was that: our one sweet night together.
Under highway signs I watched our love start fluttering and dissipating.
I counted all the headlights to make sure I was all right.
Now I’m wondering is it me or is it me that can’t see silver linings?
So I fucked it up. I watched you go.
I saw my hand not dialling the phone.
All I’m left to do is remember the dull room we sat in blue stream light
watching the strike of ‘59.
I dreamed of wrecking my underwear.
Oh can’t I touch your cheeks somewhere under dirt filled rainy nights with my
socks stuck in the mud?
Please come dive in puddles with me.
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