It’s like magic

some scratches

When I see you in the middle of the day
Three benches in from the Brooklyn Bridge
In that little park we used to share, but is now only just yours

We split a chocolate chip cookie
And smile at our levity

It feels like we are getting away with something that we shouldn’t be doing

But we’re really just living

Your move

some scratches

I pressed my palm against
the window with crisscrossed brown mustard lines

In my mind I watch
you lift your arm
palm out
to meet mine

The cold glass
a shiver
through my wrist
to my elbow
settling in my Chest
Swallowing my breath

You stood
Arms still as
My hand

We both waited

The other side is fine

some scratches

There is a glare
Caused by the stream of sun ray
Swimming in through the corner window

Her face is always clear
But his looks splotchy
Blotted out like he could be anybody

She’s wearing a sky blue dress
The color of it on a 72° day and no clouds
It’s long in the back and shorter in the front

He’s in a three piece suit
Minus the jacket
Minutes before he minuses the tie

After the picture
He clinks his knife against his champagne glass
Likening the bride and groom to Johnny and June
He smiles
Raises the bubbles in the air

And swallows it in one gulp

On the way home she holds
His hand as he looks
At the pastures that embrace the country road
At the stars that dot the midnight sky

Anywhere but at her
As she folds her hand into his
Trying to make it fit
To feel safe
To feel warm

The car pulls up to their apartment
It is tall and wide and unimpressive except that they have doormen, a pool, and a view from the 26th floor

Sold for $500

some scratches

We passed from 199,999 to 200,000 somewhere between North Carolina and Georgia
I held the grey leather steering wheel from the passenger seat
Giving us both the illusion that we were doing it together

His foot was on the accelerator

At 226,744 miles
Smoke rose from the green hood
Third time this week
I was hemorrhaging coolant
Discolored trails or puddles collecting on the driveway
In the garage

15 years
2 diplomas, 3 bachelors, 2 masters
10 jobs
45 birthdays
Sold for $500

Without ceremony

Locked out

some scratches

You won’t know
Where you go from here now
Until you open up the door
And see it can be better

The sun warms the earth
Over the creaking threshold
Sure, the shadows look grim
But all I see is you spinning

Abandoning all hope
Cut your elbow to your wrist
Falling on the jagged glass
Of a broken mirror
Knuckles white as you grab the handle
Swing through as your stitches rip
In perfect form when you land
Sew it up until you slip again

The woman standing there is a stranger
She’ll remain where you left her
Give her a reason not to

There won’t come a time
When you feel like you aren’t
Falling over and over again
On that jagged broken mirror