radio surfing for a single bone 

you taught me a new restlessness.
driving, you would click the "seek" button
over & over, culling the air for a throat you wanted.
always in the passenger seat, i waited,
let the skipping world arrive
in brief calls for help.
i remember parking at the shore in maine.
i ate fruit loops from a little plastic bag
& you talked about what you wanted
to do with me after we were married. 
you rubbed my knee in circles
like golden rings. my left knee you caressed 
is the worst in all my body to this day.
can your bones respond with their own curses? 
they say, "he wants to toss you like
a smooth stone across the water."
we talked & all the while he pushed the button.
dispatches came through from the tin foil world.
finally he landed on a gritty tongue.
a man singing about angels. he believed in god
more than he believed in my lungs.
once, he grabbed me by the hair 
& said, "i love you." i felt a knob on a radio.
it is impossible to live while another person
waits for you to be what they need.
me, every voice through the radio.
his thumb in my mouth. bowling ball headed.
i rolled through the darkness. fog on the water.
he said, "we don't have to go back
to pennsylvania." i did not say anything.
instead, i reached over & helped him
keep surfing the radio stations.
i never felt so desperate for a place to land.
give me a song. a curse. anything. 
finally, a beat i knew. 
i said, "i love this song." i don't remember
what i chose but it didn't suite the moment.
some 2010s pop song. he listened for a beat
or so before he put the car into gear.