i hold the sky like a jilted lover
i’ve been seeing behind your back,
in stolen gasps,
that you fail to comprehend today.
it never looks at me any more than you do-
almost as if it’s too hard
to keep pretending to care when you don’t;
almost as if it’s too easy
to let go of the quiet silences that
slipped between the lines of our palms,
when march came rolling in like a martyr
to our february mistakes.
there were a lot of those-
regrets we carefully disguised under
the careless slurring of
we still haven’t begun counting-
you and i.
we still can’t bring ourselves to just