935

we live on an island
with ravens as birds of summer
and stone oaks as Christmas trees

remember when we lost our keys
and slept on the porch
as the spring rain came
hurdling over the breaks and dunes

she said she wouldn’t love
anymore when the new year came
but I stuck around
to see what she meant

now we’re here
locked on an island for vacation
that doesn’t care if we live
or die in our old house

I fix her tea and coffee
like the way I take it
and go out at two
to get her food
from a local deli
that never seems to close

I’m still selfish
but I hope errands
erode whatever pretension
lives in my scalp

if we tried again
if we loved on that island
full of ravens
I wouldn’t care
if I died in the dunes

regret blooms in us
like a bacteria colony
spreading across a slide
under a microscope

isn’t love sterile now