Christmas Card Confetti

How to remember:

There is a cable car in Pittsburgh

That overlooks a slanted cobblestone street with a string-light porch

Where I won at chess.

There is a swimming hole with a rope swing

Where we passed a blunt back and forth

And drank coke spiked with fireball.

There is a house where we all shared mango wine and kisses

And a bridge where we looked down at the river from high up in the clouds.

Hours ago you touched me

In your bedroom

Under your poster of Nietzsche

Offering me half each of your twin bed and foil-covered pop-tart.

I felt so happy to be twenty-four

When you drove away

Because it wasn’t goodbye

It was hello —

In your red sports car

In my red cable car

I came back to life.

How to forget:

You draped me in your wool coat like a newborn kitten

Waiting for the 60 bus.

I wore my shiny patent leather shoes

Legs bare to Chicago and November and 1 a.m.

Just in case

You wanted

To

Keep me warm.

My cheek to your chest,

your chin my crown,

your lungs expanding like barrel hoops —

My arms fit around you

Just barely

Till headlights heralded the

Winding balloon of your heart

Driving away.