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.