You told me in ten years you’re goingto be a bird
and then you just said blue, green and yellow.

We had pasta at 9:30 and coffee at midnight.

Purple nail polish and a red scarf.

It’s just sitting in a car, and more sitting in a car.

It’s more like sandals,
watching movies inthe dim den,
the three cars in your driveway,

and theplaces you go
that no one else knows about.

I sent you a text message before I left
because no one talks on the phone anymore.

You told me enough times
that you’re coming to Chicago

that I stopped believing it.

One of my best features are my hands.
I’m so sorry I drive manually.

You told me your scarf is very warm,
though I can see the moon through it.

There is no body in my passenger seat.

In between shifts when I can reach over
it’s to pick up the cup

any farther and I’m just pushing the tab
and locking the door.