Summer

the heat seeps

out of the pavement

in long whisps

stealing the air

from my lungs

the city suffocates

and i shuffle

to the mailbox

kicking magnolia leaves

peering inside

for love letters

that never come

the tomatoes

at the farmer’s market

smell sour and earthy

but i’m still

rifling through

dirty clothes

trying to capture

what’s left of your

skin on my shirts

i sit on benches

drinking beer

sweat dripping

down the backs

of my thighs

desperate to remember

anything at all

the sun sets angry red

over the downtown skyline

the buildings are

ugly and fragmented

and i miss

the curve of your back

the construction site

where no one ever works

gapes like hades

in the humid night

i kick cones

and throw rocks

no one sees

me anymore

i can wonder

all night along

the railroad tracks

but it won’t make

the phone ring.