somewhere in the ocean, the waves will wash a memory back into my reflection from the open window.
the one where you were laying in bed trying to muster the fake erotica my heart wanted.
as you “exhaled” on your e-cig “careful” not to set off the alarm in the dorm.
somehow it will come to life that i slept with my arms pressed over my head while the drunkenness wrestled with the fire alarm signaling the end of my 21st birthday, when you walked away.
sorry for the strangers who ever wondered what was wrong with the girl
who pretended to read books
something she used to do for good,
but she was crying about how you became her left limb and broke it.
you brought it home to your mother one sunday as an art project she will probably hang in your bachelor pad
while she tells you
jesus loves you
but NEVER the longtime girl without the crucified heart.