365 Poems/218 Visiting Friends (Rough First Draft)

Visiting Friends

I want to kiss the window

giving me the last view of

your head as it moves down

towards the station.


You’re visiting friends.

I’m jealous. I want you here.


I want to understand

the science of your smile.


I want you here, telling me,

again, the addresses of all

the places you’ve lived.


I remember the first time

my mouth bumped into yours.


When I ordered my second

glass of lime and soda because

I wanted to tell you I loved you,

after an hour, and knew it would

happen if I was drunk.


I go through photographs of you

on Facebook, scratch crosses

on my world map of all the places

you’ve been tagged in, then hide

it under our bed, in case you

see it, and ask what’s what.


Candles are getting wasted.

I blow them out so there’s wax

left for when you get back.


You bring about a change in me.

Make me want to take one long

distance journey after another,

after another.


I can see the grain of your prints

on the front door glass, where you

pushed it closed with one hand.


I touch them, remember the bruise

on your elbow as you hurried

to get ready to leave, the way

it twisted. Then, how even your

shadow told a joke, as you grinned

and bared it.


I open and close the door. Lock it

with the yale key, and hope you’re

thinking about me as strongly as

I am of you.