on a sunday evening
i was sitting across the bed from you
in the guest room
of my parents house
finding ways to compactly transport my life
it went something like this:
fold, stuff, sigh, kiss.
we managed to sneak lips
between tending to the empty cavities
left by my shoes.
people who get up and leave are good at
filling the contours with whatever will fit.
mostly the little things
there was too much baggage to just jump and fly.
your hair was longer, mine was shorter.
there were no twists in strands
or kinks in tow.
i made you put on a red v neck shirt i made
to declare our post (ambivalence)
i wanted to stay but needed to go.
and you let me.