Postcard from Gone
When you left I walked
into the ocean. Not to
drown but to be held
to let go. Don’t
make this bigger
than it is, which is big
enough to swallow
the blue, I was blue.
And when I looked
down, I shattered
so many times, you know, I couldn’t catch
a clear look at myself.
Walking through Provincetown in January, I Fall in Love Again
with my life. The fleece of it
draped silver midair. From the eaves of houses
icicles dripping, keeping
time with my pulse.
(How could I have ever wanted
to cut you out? Bluest
ribbon of my blood
looped around my wrist as if a finger, so as not
to forget—) Through the haze, sun-
break demanding as a child. Messy dayglow on
slush, spilling everywhere like milk.
I pause at the harbor, its broad
clean slate. My cheeks
red as the first day. My feet planted
at the edge, lapped by swash like kisses.