she has paced the polish
off the hallway floors

small wide feet
toenails layered
with flaking paint
blues covering pinks hiding chipped yellows

always spring colors

she tells you fall colors make her feel old

she tells you sometimes she forgets
she was in love with you
and those are her favorite days

days she thinks the way she feels now
is the happiest
she has ever been

she forgets how you
would pour whiskey
in soda bottles before church
when her parents weren’t looking

how you would share sips
throughout service
lips numb against slurred prayers

way your hair smelled
like chemicals for days
after you’d lighten it

how you’d never tighten
lids on things
so they were always spilling

how you’d kiss the edge of her mouth
so her lipstick wouldn’t smear

when she finally looks at you
it feels too late

she tells you
that you are the one
who taught her how to love

how she hates you for it