edited excerpt from “slammed” in scrabble dreams. 2007. northfield, mn.
If I had to make a confession after I
slammed the door on the last load in the car &
turned to face you,
yr neck red
yr hands rough
& yr eyes wide
I’d make it w/my mouth & the air eaten by my lungs.
& from there I’d tell you
“I wish we’d spent more time together”
getting muddy, smelling like leaves, & “setting things on fire.
That way we could’ve known how well we might’ve controlled the element.
Well, I’ll be back in the spring” & we can make a go at the last time we stood together
in those woods behind the playground, watching the tether ball hitch
& the tether ball swing.