fresh surface

she's the sort of friend

who already knows how you are
when she asks
and
if she doesn't
she truly wants to know

these days
i don't know how to answer

i could show her my recent nosebleeds
the first since my adolescence

i could give her
the sound of rain
falling cold and steadily
and peacefully and nonchalantly

i could tell her the story
of how on our last night together
you spilled red wine
and
because it gave us something else to do
we focused and vacuumed
and sprayed and poured salt
as if the carpet symbolized us

and if we could remove the blood-colored stains

we'd have a fresh surface for each other

as if trying to prove

we can do something right

as if

we can remove and create

together

i can ask her
where to put your pictures notes books letters clothes

scent

i could recount you in numbers
of unreturned communication

i've got a whole wallet of receipts
with your last name

but none of that
says how
none of that
proves why
none of that
comes close
to measuring
depth
size
or loss

-May 11, 2006