these are poems from that whole year that went by
i’ve mostly forgotten what the posters on your walls looked like
and scroll past your name without much thought
but if you open your mouth, somewhere far away from me
and a song you sing falls, uninvited, out of a digital envelope
i have to admit that i was never in love with your voice
but i was terribly in love with the way you sang.
fall arrived today. all it made me want is to be in love again.
you’re crying on the floor below me, but i’m not going down there.
she brought me ice cream. and i don’t really like sprinkles, but life goes on.
on, limping. realize you are the protagonist:
you have taken off your shoes to walk through the grass, sun shining in the dew.
we drove out to see the moon and waited for the clouds to move.
instead it started to rain. we read in the car by phone light
and all was very still, just for a minute, for a change.
the whole next day I could still taste you,
in the Apple Castle apple, in the leaf falling all the way down to me,
one of many, in the cold and in the quiet.
what’ve these months been? leaves on trees,
Jenga, illness, a boy putting his drum away.
i haven’t talked to you in almost a year.
i’ve talked too much about everything else. but i’m trying,
trying to talk to this guy on the roof, at least, imagining him
cold, wet, stoned, and listening to minimalism.