a year ago

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

back East.

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

like lingerie.

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)

when really,

i wanted to stay but needed to go.

and you let me.