I.
it was the morning after
you fucked me the first time—
falling into each other
after the movie,
trying not to stop early
becuase i was scared i’d shit

it was the morning after
you told me you loved me
(of course, this was just casual sex)
& when i woke in the middle of the night
in a panic, you grabbed me, it’s okay,
& held me against your chest

it was the morning after
when you made me coffee
harvested from your hometown
(knowing i like it black) &
prepared a SPAM, egg, & swiss sandwich
on whole wheat toast

it was the morning after
when i thought i couldn’t love anyone’s
slender fingers more, watching you
makeup your face, laugh with your mom,
piss in the tub to save water, & i could
almost forget you chastising me

it was the morning after
you fucked someone else,
when you sent me off
with banana bread, protein bars,
& coffee (because you don’t like when i
don’t eat), & i drove you to the airport

it was the morning after
when you looked at your phone
more than me, talked to your roommates
while i cried in the bathroom, hugged me,
said you’d walk me out, & instead,
just walked me to the door

II.
i’ve learned i don’t like sleeping alone
or showering alone—even when
i cook, i can’t help but think
of your hands & your dance
& my smile, although i was always
in your way, following you like a dog

i was driving alone (not to your
place) down a small road, near
a creek, with the windows down, &
i saw two small white butterflies
twirling upward—i couldn’t tell if
they loved or hated each other

(& then i started to cry)

III.
standing by myself
in the kitchen,
i wash my hands
because there’s a leak
in the bathroom sink

the soap is just some simple
fragrance, you say, but i love
how it smells

i forgot how strange
it feels to kiss someone new

we didn’t even hook-up,
but at midnight, when i left,
the late-night-tea-drinkers in the courtyard
stared at me like i was
some clandestine lover