you remember; you were there

do you remember wrapping up in blankets on the back porch and not smoking cigarettes and watching the sun disappear into the burps of cars and the giant ugly sigh of the city? do you remember making sandwiches and squishing the avocados with our fingertips? do you remember playing sardines in the dark (beasley, who we once knew as someone altogether different, called it sardines in the can) and hiding in my closet, seeing his shoes beneath the feathers of my floor length gown and feeling that warm thing happening in my stomach, that butterfly osmosis that floats down from what you know to what you want? do you remember putting on my neon golashes and all of my scarves and the david bowie wig and dancing around to blonde redhead as the rest of them looked on in confused glee, dancing until we were desparate for air, dancing until we fell down, dancing until wine scented sweat tickled the backs of our necks and knees?

you remember; you were there. you were the bloodshot in my eyes when i walked up to him, like i was a hand and he was all those silver needles and we made this fleeting impact, this imprint that only lasted until we wiped it clean and made another one. you were the beer bottle that dropped, that slid out of my hands, that crashed brilliantly all over the floor. you were there, i felt it!

remember closing your eyes, remember everyone walking by, remember being silent and still for so long you thought maybe you were somewhere else altogether? and we said that if you could be there then, physically, but not really there at all, then you can be far away, physically, and here in every skipping song we play on that shitty stereo in the kitchen, you can be the crud on every dirty plate, you can be the wax in every mutilated candle, you can be the purple sequined cowboy hat, you can be all of us hiding in the loft, or the movie that never gets watched. you can be and you are.

we were right. we were right all along.