when I close my eyes, sometimes,
I am back in his bed, those early
January mornings
my alarm sounding at 0545
and my love, still fast asleep,
tightening his grip around my waist
my first thought was I don’t want to leave
and my second, his warmth calls me back to sleep
but I would still go,
leaving a circlet of kisses
around his crown
and I would pull on my clothes,
driving half an hour south
where I’d pick up Lil Cobra
for school
once she was dropped off,
usually forgetting her water bottle
or wallet in my car,
I’d drive twenty more minutes south
parking on a red brick road
waiting for the doors to unlock at 0800,
I’d think of how I left him,
soft, snoring, and asleep
tangled in blankets, naked underneath
and when campus finally opened,
I’d sling my backpack over my shoulders
walking to class alone,
I felt his absence like cracked ribs
every breath a sharp pain
and every bit of laughter, excruciating
I’d count down the hours
until 1425
and back on the highway,
I’d count down the exits
until 68
and I’d make a list
of all the things I wanted to say,
how I accidentally killed my brine shrimp again
how I fingered the calligraphy in primary source Islamic texts
how I missed him and what about the Truck Stop for dinner?
.
when I close my eyes, sometimes,
I am back in his lap, on the futon
and he’s looking at me
like I am the only thing
and I am grinning so hard
I’m showing my teeth
we seem so young,
eyes glittering and cheeks pink
yet it’s only been several months since then
and when I close my eyes, this time,
I don’t know where things went so wrong