(Whiplash Therapy For The Undearly)
Heartstring whiplash in the breath before summer,
I regret forgetting how your fingerprints felt
against my skin. Your hesitance numbed my ribcage —
a premonition of absence mistaken for honesty.
I never asked you to wait, but you reassured me
you wouldn't. You aspired to be bigger than Texas
and wanted to explore your wide open spaces
before you found a home within my Atlantic bones.
Autumn called you back, reminding me you had
kept your promise. It had been easy to forget you
in the hum of four months of sweat and silence.
Your next hello sounded insincere and I realized
distance had nothing to do with us. You weren't
any closer standing in front of me than when you
were two thousand miles and sixty memories away.
I could count the number of times I saw you
in the next ten months on one row of teeth
and hated how teeth always reminded me of you.
Stubborn memories in the wake of passed time,
I stole moments from your life and daydreamed
familiarity with the cryptic love letters you gave
to the world, imagining my name into them.
Today you promised to wait for her, that silence
had no home in you this summer. You are mailing
her a box containing all the ways you miss her.
You miss her "dearly" and love that she will
never read this letter you posted to the world.