Bits and Pieces

The way you kiss the top of my spine when you walk by
I can tell you woke up loving me today,

How you always stop me from picking at my fingers and you say
You want your Alessandra in one piece

“How do you put up with her?”

“I’m sorry I don’t know the phrase…”

“It means she is asking you how you got so lucky to find a woman like me.”

He had his fingers gently curling through the hair at the nape of my neck, but he took his hand away and I said,

“Why did you stop?”

“Because I have to be able to walk out of here”

You can’t read this,

But hear me,

You are loved.

Rebecca has thin lips but looked like she would be a good kisser if I gave her the chance. She dresses in green, a habit turned obsession. Green sweater, green jacket, and even her pens and journal are green. I typically wear too much red.

Together, we look like a Christmas gift. One worth unwrapping.

There were a lot of ways I almost loved you,
a lot of details we both held onto
and in enough time it’s funny which ones you kept and which ones I did.
It’s strange how we split the difference.

For example, I remember every time you kissed my forehead.
I have chosen to forget the moments we actually kissed,
the hips pressed into hips,
the night on the carpet when I was moving out of the country.
I had sold my bed and I invited you over to my place,
The evening smelled like bourbon
and the plastic of a deflated air mattress
And it sounded like the zipper of a closed suitcase
and I left New York, to go get married, and I did.

Give me validation.

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