1
Sometimes late at night
I think of that day at the coffeeshop
when I took your picture & you refused to smile.
It plays over & over in my mind in a loop,
a dog chasing its tail.

2
In middle school
the boys wore shirts with loops on the back.
The girls who were sweet on them
would sneak up behind & yank off the loops
as keepsakes, declarations of interest. My loops
remained in place.

3
Hula hoop, lasso, engagement ring, noose.

4
The planets move around the sun
in loops like a rubber band
stretched between my index finger
& thumb, elliptical.

5
You looped your arm
around mine, walked with me
a while, then
let me go. 

6
My mother found crochet late in life,
her hook looping strands of yarn into sweaters
& sofa throws. She was making me a comforter
when she died. A friend of hers finished it,
closing the circle.

7
It was some dark matter
that drew us together, dark energy
that pushed us apart.

8
I make the same discoveries,
the same mistakes, over
& over again, a snake
swallowing its tail.

9
I’ve been happily single for years now
but when someone asks me out for coffee,
I say yes.