A Playlist, or a Sonnet Crown

I wish you hadn’t shown up so early

or pulled my suitcases out of the trunk.

You wore a Hawaiian shirt, fitting

for a day like this. Hold back your lemon breath, darling. My whole face puckered, eyes already unfolding. I wish I hadn’t

but I said goodbye and you said see you soon

to the automatic sliding doors.

They wouldn’t allow my tears through security so I studied the luggage and skeletons

instead. I soaked my shoes and my mother changed the subject. No rivers left the runway that Thursday. I hold six open safety pins

in my palm just in case you decide to wait.

In my palm just in case you decide to wait with your golden on her leash and you knew I was always five minutes late. You were disappointed that I did not slip

this sunset under your tongue. We dreamed in sandy trails. I did not make eye

contact, but shivered with my lips instead.

Did you know Olivia Rodrigo gave me déjà vu? Or the day we ate pb&js on the grass near the steps

of the capitol, both in Birkenstocks?

Grape jelly slipped down your shirt—goodnight and good morning texts. I laughed something hilarious or embarrassing, yes.

Hilarious or embarrassing, yes

we watched Top Gun and kissed in the movie light. Teeth and tongue tangled in all sorts

of confusing arrangements. Later, we laid in the dark on the trampoline

in your backyard. Looked through your curly hair and pine trees to pearls of stars. Oh Lorde, please sing the night inside of me. It was cold,

but I was always cold. Still, the summer ran away with us. The sun lost its orbit, no, that was just me. On what Scrabble tile do you end and I begin? An afterthought: what is the etymology of runway? Trust

in my definition of gravity.

In my definition of gravity,

stalactite to stalagmite is weight-lifting water. I could barely walk down or up the stairs the day after you took me

to the gym. We squatted something like salt fields and billowing blue eyes. You swallowed the last lime, didn’t even leave me

the aftertaste on your tongue. We agreed upon this: princess to your Kiss by my Prince.

You said I love you after two beers. I asked if you meant it or if it was your removed car muffler and bumper talking. I watched sound escape your lips again, lost in smoke. I wish I hadn’t left so early.