for days & days afterwards the city outside reduces itself to jelly & jam,
that sweetness rotting on our tongues.
you stayed still as if that would trick the sun into hiding,
as if you didn't move you wouldn't melt. but you did-
& that is the lesson, i guess, because every story needs a lesson.
like how these days your cheeks can pulled like putty to be hung from your ears.
or how i think my body is at least 75% lip gloss by now,
because i keep reapplying and hoping it covers the taste of your spit.
i straightened my hair for you today, &
toed the edge of the bedroom like something was keeping me in
or like i couldn't come in. i don't remember which one.
i don't remember which side i was standing on.
the wrong one, i think. the one where my voice still echoed & stuck to the walls,
& air that snuck itself out of my throat to leave me like chewed-up bubblegum
in my own skin, an unwrapping & an unleashing & an undoing & an un-
the one where i haven't started cleaning up the mess we've made.