Friendship Break-up

The last time we talked,

after the muscles of hate

atrophied--the air between us a decay--

we shrunk into small talk while I forgive

fluttered on the springboard

of my tongue.

I tried to pull back time

like it was the fabric of a long dress—

looking for my footing.

You pretended you could look me in the eye,

watching something behind me—

flitting footages we cannot remake:

How you would tell me

I worry at my lips every time I walk into a room,

and I would think: I’ve been discovered

like the Americas.

I just didn’t know it would be so violent—

how I loved you to the point of revolution.

Didn’t know your name would one day ring in my ears

like a gunshot.

Didn’t know your face would ever become a crime scene

contorting into an apology

I almost accept.

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