What I Would Say

In first year that boy cleaned
broken glass from your shoes
and in fourth year
you wore his coat.

I looked at the moon and I squinted hard and tight
and I could see the ants and they were crying and
hugging and telling each other lies about love

We stopped loving so suddenly. I didn't.
But I remember the evening. And I was
far away from everything and you and next to you and
inside myself. Deep inside myself and safe
under layers of warm and blood. Thick and fuzzy
and suffocating warm, and loud blood kicking the walls,
trying to kick the walls. And I dropped the book
and it fell open
on the page about you, as it happens
all the pages were about you. And the coffee
stained the pages and the tears
stained the coffee.

I wanted to take you somewhere.
(The place with the tissue paper flowers.)
(In snow white.)
((And cotton candy pink.))

I marked it carefully.
(On my fading map.)
(With indelible ink.)
((The place with the tissue paper flowers.))

And you took that tarnished compass.
(From the wooden box.)
(Your grandpa left you.)

But north wasn't north,
Or the map wasn't a map.

And we never found
The tissue paper flowers.

I pushed you then
To the muddy ground.

We scratched
And clawed
The sludge.

And planted ourselves.

Remember that afternoon
Our shoulders thought of touching

My left
Cried out
For your right

To bridge the crevasse
Of wool
And cotton
And electric air

Press your lips against my ear.
Wrap your hands around my head.
Whisper to me.
Tell me you never want
This moment to end.

If I saw you again
I would press your hand
Between mine

And I would bring it
To my mouth

And my teeth would
Test the rubber
Of your skin

And my tongue would
Taste the salt

I want you to cry
I want you to be trapped
Under the covers
Scared of the cold

I want you to cry
So I can wipe your tears
Away
And kiss us better

Sometimes I wonder if
You're wondering
About me

I painted a picture of you
The other day
And the day before
And the day before that

I wanted to show you
But I used colours
You can't see

Why didn't you kiss me?

Why didn't I kiss you?

Why didn't you kiss me!

I'm finally over you.
I've stopped thinking about your smile.
And how you made your coffee.
Exactly the same way.
Every morning.

I've stopped thinking about your eyes,
And the way I would read them
Like a poem
I'd written

If I press hard enough
My pen will
Tear through
The page
And I will drag you in