Arrivals

So many flights come and go, you lose track of the tears in your heart. Spend your evenings mending them like stockings; you were always terrible in home ec but at least with age you've learned how to do a passable job. I woke with a start in the middle of the night and remembered all the lines on my face, all the wrinkles on the map of the world, I remembered every truth I had ever learned and wished I could forget for a minute, if only long enough to fall asleep. The lights were on, my clothes still wrapped around my body, these things happen, I had been so cold and now the radiator sprints toward its extinction. He writes, you sound like disaster with flushed cheeks and I recognize the tremble in his voice so well, feel in my fingertips the ease with which I could pull out my arsenal. I thought we weren't doing that anymore, a voice whispers somewhere in the top left corner of your chest, as I take a step back and look for alternatives. Hangovers always pull honesty out of me like a cure. Like this pokerface has a hard time keeping up when the makeup rubs off on the pillow. I leave his message on read and stare out the window instead.

You know the way people look at you, that mix of affection and bittersweet joy, the moment they know is the last before they have to break you?

That question is rhetorical.