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remember when he kissed your knee
in your favorite summer
you said it wasn’t a park
the two of you were lying in
but a great sanctuary
solemn and honest
for your undying
god fearing
unquenchable
love

remember the photo you took
on your father’s digital camera
of a tree with him sleeping underneath
you sent it to your friends
your mother
said he had fallen from the tree
into your hands
how long did you work to frame
that photo into a fairy tale

I, you said,
was too busy smoking in
my mother’s bathroom
getting drunk too early
and passing out on a golf course
to truly appreciate you like he did

I remember your legs
the eighth notes I counted
with my lips on yours
at your best friend’s party

I can’t tell what’s the most foolish