Let’s just take a break. We’ll be
And all the memories begin
floating away as red rose petals from the first date
at Ruggeri’s wilted.
The Hatsfield carnival panda leaks
stuffing, and Be Mine Forever valentine
heart rips in half.
In room, a museum to his memory, I curl Indian-style in the middle of dull blue
carpet, forehead on knees, and cry at his green
hoodie hanging, a limp spirit
from my bed post, and his Abercrombie navy blue t shirt I still sleep in, though wrinkled and dirty.
I can’t return to that high school, where they all watch, all know
I no longer smell the rustic guy
scent of smoke and hazel and coffee, no longer wear heart
charms, now scattered in rage, no longer ring
fingers in silver and gold.
I watch the torn and faded scorecard,
the third date, Fenway mini golf, June 4th, sweep
out on a wind through the cracked window screen.
Okay?
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