all summer 

we didn't share a bed.
the air conditioner ran so harshly 
it began to speak words, psalms.
i considered briefly 
going to the heavy looking church
up the street from our apartment.
confetti stained glass
& a stone statue of mary 
with a spot light pointed
at her face. i felt like her,
leaden with stolen eyelids. 
outside, a crossing guard waved her hand
like "come come closer."
you asked me over & over 
what was wrong with us. 
you open & closed the fron door.
we ate at the counter 
on the black wobbly stools. i dreamed
of moving deep into the city
to bury my body like a marble. 
your bedroom got smaller
& so did mine. when i thought of mouths
i didn't think of yours. i thought
of water bottles & widowsills.
pressed my forhead
to the window of the train
& saw the landscape reel past.
i walked the dog around
the same block. by myself, i followed 
willis avenue all the way
to the crumpled iHop at the end
of the road. peeled off my polka dot socks.
you sat on the blue sofa.
i perched at my desk. 
i said i "love you" until
the words were nothing but drums.
drums or maybe a juggler
standing in the living room.
i wanted to go to the ocean 
all alone & float on my back.
we went to the movies
only once & had to walk across
a smoldering parking lot
from the train station 
to reach the theater.
the air was white. we held hands
on & off. i wanted to tell you something
but it kept leaving my heart.
instead, we said very little 
& inside the air conditioning 
gave me goosebumps. 
we talked about needing
to make more time for each other.
i went on several dates
with my ghosts, sitting on a bench
by the post office at night.
you slept like a bowl of grapes.
i couldn't sleep. sat up
at the end of my bed
in my room with no windows 
& imagined the moon
always a sliver, a grin
dangling in the dark.

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