the refrigerator magnet

we arrived at the seaside town

after a long

drive.

so we had

to buy

something to remind

us that we were here.

a glass paperweight

perhaps,

a magnet for the refrigerator.

maybe a t-shirt,

or hat with the name

of town

embroidered on it.

maybe a beach towel.

after long discussion, we settled

on the magnet.

and despite everything,

i still have it.

the heart shaped cloud

as we drive south,

she points up

at the sky.

that cloud

over there,

looks like a heart,

she says. look at

it,

it's a perfect

heart.

i point at one

that i claim to be mine,

that one

looks

like it might rain.

i tell her.

we should hurry,

the edges are bruised

and dark.

the conversation

it's a bad connection.

she's in

and out.

her voice fades,

it sounds like she's underwater

or in a cave

with the swirl

of bats

around her.

she could be on the moon.

the line

crackles.

i'm sorry, i tell her,

what did you

just say?

she's been talking for an

hour

without taking

a breath.

i believe she could swim

the English

Channel underwater

if she put

her mind to it.

never mind, she says.

okay,

i tell her.

bye for now.

who left the milk out?

living alone,

i talk to myself

sometimes.

i ask

myself who left the window open

all night

with this cold

breeze blowing

in.

i get angry and walk

over to close it.

the nerve of some people.

and now

downstairs,

to wonder

who left the milk out

on the counter

overnight.

look at me

there is no

shame anymore.

there is 

little or no dignity,

no guilt

or remorse, regret,

or second thoughts.

every sin is welcome

and forgiven.

three minutes

on tik tok

will solidify that.

the apple trees beyond

on the gallows,

hands tied behind his back,

the noose tightened

around his neck,

before the black

mask

is slipped

over his head

and the trap

door opens.

he sees in the distance

the blossoming

of apple trees,

he smells

lilacs in the field,

the perfume of a woman

at his feet,

and for a second he

believes

he could have lived life

differently.

the silent treatment

there is no

quiet in the world.

no stone

silence.

no place where you

can

hear a pin drop,

or the splash

of a single of rain.

but the last

false love

proved me wrong

about that.