I sent E a postcard from the museum
in Barcelona that said I hate Cubism. Our safe word
was Picasso. Some days I forget to leave my body and go back
to compulsive cleaning. Watching El Niño pass over
the Scientology Centre now. The rose lasts longer than
the candle, its descent out of certainty crude
and free of debris. The last time I came home
my father had made bumper stickers to promote
his business and put them on the Subaru
with his name & website. I’ve never seen that before.
No one ever told me that your hands retain more water
in certain parts of the world. I keep the rings I bought
in Nashville and Prague in a Kiehl’s box with post-its.
The first time I took an Adderall I fell in love and was in love
for four years. Two of them he loved me too and the others
I was alone in it, waiting to be asked to dance.
I miss that more. I am trying to go back now.
Geese over the lake at the end of an acid trip.
The water looked like a screensaver. Nearby,
Professors walked dogs. Was I happy
doesn’t seem the right question anymore.
I never stopped doing it. Collecting distance.
Driving back and forth from the Columbus airport.
Watching deer cut through dry woods while E slept
moving numbly towards the next thing. All of it, equally
charming when I remember it. Ohio, Real Winter. Me,
him pacing back and forth on the other side of a fire.