Before You Leave

January 23, 2013
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Light slips off your cheeks
like soap. You are all bending limbs,
folded elbows, knees. Silhouette grey,
your smoke is slow and follows the telephone wires
away. I am too long, gangley
to fit comfortably anymore in this spot
next to you, in mosquitoes and sluggish heat.

You were to be my summer story.
Adventure, something to write about.
I felt like a dancer in the wings,
the world's secret, someone
who would make your mother laugh.
Outlines and maps--I plotted the end
before it could have happened,
a prophesy in poetry, self-fulfilling.

It won't be long before you leave.

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