You said you could still taste the wine on my lips.
I said I’d rather taste like something else.
You bit your lip and laughed for a second,
But then your face dropped like
Opening yourself up to laugh
allowed everything else in.

Then you said I don’t think we can fix this.
Everything reminds me of that.
You were sitting up and looking at the wall
Across from the bed. There was a picture of us
Next to a painting you did for me.

I said Look at me.

You looked at me and then turned over,
Uncovered, so blasé all you needed was a cigarette
To complete the picture and I wondered then
if that was the last time we would be naked together.

I went to Jackson Bottom the next day
And I found a bench off the main trail
To lie on and to mope, to forget and feel forgotten
and to stare up at the sky through the leaves
Shaking in the wind.

I took a video as I lay there.
Holding the phone above my face,
Camera pointed toward the sky
In some affectation of loneliness.

I wished I could still taste the wine on my lips.
I wished I could still taste you on my lips.
You said you knew because you could taste wine
On my lips. You said You never drink without me.

I didn’t want to remember anything beyond that.
I stopped recording.
I closed my eyes.
I felt the sounds close in
The way you used to when
You thought I was sleeping.

The birdsong, witchety-witchety-witchety, like
The way I could always tell you were smiling.