what if she disappeared
quick and clean as a rainstorm
would you still love her when
she is little more than earth?
perfume stale on a necktie
rosemary and basil fat in the kitchen
these things aren’t tangible
like her hands on your mouth
wheeling through the seasons
with the windows rolled up
isn’t really living, she told you
four arms, four legs
two hearts, one home
these are the roots of us
waste the days on fleeting laughter
on the way she looks at the end of the night
put on your best suit and
go puddle jumping
it won’t matter like
the way she smiles in the rain
if she wants snow in July
disembowel the Egyptian cotton pillowcases
tear down the silk curtains and
she’s queen for a day
bask in the way she ties a
perfect knot around the
neck you kiss when you’re sorry
the way she glides across the
living room and calls on the help
because when she’s gone
when she’s really, truly a memory
you won’t ache for things,
for money well spent, for her rosemary
instead you’ll keep her best in the
all of the jeweled spontaneity
in the way her body felt
so light in its blissful carelessness