The email you sent last summer

pinned me beneath a boulder, hidden
in the body of a cloud. Cracked

rain fell from concrete like memory.
You once called me meat and potatoes

but longed for caviar; told me
you weren’t the kind to open

the door for a lady expecting too much.
So why, did I linger

in the taste of gunmetal?
Tremble under crescendo,

I want to see you again. Again, remind me
what it means to return as a sky

trapped in a smaller self.
If I burst, flooding what I remember

would I forget? Like your gift of blue
hydrangeas, how they hugged

space between us.
Their petals, now purpled

pooling               around my ankles

last summer

a boulder
cracked

meat and potatoes
longed for caviar

lingered
in metal

crumbled
I want to see you again

a sky
trapped

in a smaller
self

bursts
loneliness

what remains
between us

pools
around my ankles