December birthday
and the way you forgot to buy candles,
the handles of your Honda frozen like
popsicle sticks
and the way you looked at me
as if time trickled in like a bad cold,
Vicks smeared moments like stuffy noses,
a tissue comment shoved into my hand,
your bland, misbegotten frozenness
left to cool, left to stand.
"I'm sorry" a delayed plane, a paper crane...
straining and broken,
not knowing where to land.
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