The back of the couch makes a little ledge of wood
between the cushions and the wall.
I put my glass of water there
and think 'I will forget this is here
and I will knock it over and it will smash on the radiator.
I forgot it was there and when it smashed on the radiator I was so startled...
I feel that need to confess things
Into the Internet
but I am out of poetry,
For once I really want to say it as it is.
But poetry is the camouflage
So without it I'm not allowed
To say anything.
Unless I chance it:
I miss the way you made me feel and I want to feel that way again
I know that if anything more had happened it would have come to nothing.
but since its come to nothing anyway I would have preferred for more to have happened.
Just because of the adrenaline... I liked the adrenaline a lot.
I think about you now when I run through red lights,
or slam on my breaks to avoid a squirrel.
When I jump out of planes and off of bridges, hanging from parachutes and bungee cords I shut my eyes
and as the bones over my heart tighten, as I struggle to breathe,
I think about my knee touching your knee under the table.