Still swimming

I Can’t Remember Your Middle Name

We shook our fists
when our pens ran out.
And I wrote you letters
From, not Love,
but pretense of what was.

And I kept the flowers
you bought me
for my birthday, or I’m sorry, or happy
something I don’t remember anymore
but insisted on preserving
in a clear vase on my bedside table.

We went to dinner, the waitress forgot to light the candles,
and you checked your watch for the time.
I made a tourniquet and wrapped it around our wrists pressed together,
but we bled through the bandage.

Is the hourglass half full
or half empty?


2 thoughts on “Still swimming

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