Take me back to that night;

not the chapel, no,
the room off Rehl Road
and our haunted faces,
two girls stargazing
under October starlight.
You tell me you have just
overcome a bout of psychosis.
You ask me the same questions
over again and apologize—
brain’s a little fuzzy right now,
no, it’s okay, I understand—
and my own fuzziness comes
to clarity, the memories of
your lips on my cheek
and the anger of my ex boyfriend,
the holes in your sweater
and the endless downpours of rain
that night. I didn’t know then
that I’d never see you again,
but I remember your golden hair
and victim cries, your laugh and the plans
we made that we knew would never come
to fruition.