i said, if she really loves someone else, why is she
still writing about you?
it’s an important question
with a kind of answer that makes my heart
marissa had told me a story about her uncle,
who loved someone but then also loved someone else.
he carried the first woman around
like a set of keys to a house he no longer lived in.
at dinner parties, he would pull them out of his pocket
and hold them to the light, tell his nephews
about this person he would never see again.
when i think about airplanes now, i have to remember my life isn’t
just an arrival gate. the last time i was flying somewhere,
i cried through the in-flight movie. my big fear
is that i will never love someone like that again.
which is a shame. which is a waste.
if there was one thing i was good at,
it was leaving my door unlocked.