The quilts, the quiet;
the weekend we only ate sushi,
then rolled ourselves in the sheets
like ghosts, like goblins,
I’ll tear you apart, said the guilt.
Leave those memories for better things.
But it was my superpower taking over,
long before you’re packing.
It was your shoulders in the morning,
the manicured hairline on your neck,
the spots, a constellation on your spine;
In the end,
I got used to looking at your back.
The spinning, the silences,
how sorry we were
when we tried to look back—
The day he called me Dandy Lion.
I left curls on his pillow
and pages in the sheets,
now worth nothing
in the banks of our memories.