When I am raw like this,
even pine needles cut.
Divorce, a frozen country
road, a party we promised
to attend. What is the geometry
of this? And what the hell were you
thinking? It all comes down
to quest narrative versus
romantic plot, and I have no
desire to keep my house
cold for hot-blooded men. I’m
yours and I’m not yours. Naive
in wolf’s clothing. There are bigger
problems, I know, but first
make the room stop spinning.
Here’s what I’ve been
trying to say: We couldn’t
stop ourselves from watching
the leaf spiral all the way down.
We couldn’t stop the high
school kids from wrecking
their car after homecoming,
but we watched on the stoop.
What did I have to offer? You
once held a ridge of blue mountains
in your hands. What did I have?
A child cries in her stroller, I want
to go home. And no one looks.