I despise to lay and sit and think,

And pretend you don’t do the same.

Wishes for that pretend, for us, for a future,

Are they in vain? Is it pointless? 

Do you sleep while standing, awake, with eyes closed,

Remembering my name, my touch, my laugh-

The way my perfume wafts around our skin.

I remember the notes of jasmine and musk- my favorite.

I stopped wearing it after you claimed to “prefer citrus.”

Was that her scent? 

Even while we lay

In my hammock, under my lemon tree- 

the blood rushing through your brain, 

its path is directed not toward your heart,

nor to your hands interlaced through mine, but to those memories.

It speaks without talking- I see it in your eyes.

You tell me I hurt you, and I cry and beg.

I say the same and I’m left for crows, in the ground,

who peck at first the lemon rinds and then me.

And how am I supposed to leave

Remembering that time I cried,

and you whispered, I will always love you.

I used to think

always meant forever. 

I know it doesn’t anymore. It doesn’t matter.

I threw out my jasmine perfume

at least I didn’t cry about that.