a shorter version of something else, entirely. perhaps the longer – too long for a blog version – another time

I met someone the other night. Did you hear me?
Just the alarm and the static hum of music.
What did you say?
When?
Now?
As I awakened?
Yes.
Hey, who is that guy you’ve been dating?
[There was no reason to mention that we’d only been
friends. That he had flown back to Italy months ago.]
This is already a miserable morning.
It’s far too early to say miserable.
I’m lucky to have you.
I love you.
I could. You make me want to love you.

instead, I pretend to drink my cold coffee
bite the inside of my lip to arrest the tears
and think about loaded words that sting
intensity
affection
intimacy
none of those conditions attach themselves to you
they fall down, out, away
shatter into a million pieces on the floor
and as I pack useless clothes into cardboard boxes
a vacancy grows greater than I ever imagined possible