i painted my window shut

with purple paint.
if you look out
you can see the flood
from five days rain.
forty would surely drown me.

i'm writing on a ball
like the one we used to use
when i was a kitten
and you were insane.

through the male gaze
"you were always the summer girl".
 finally, the why-i'm-so-easy-to-leave of it.
the gutters we lie in are rain swollen.
the beaches we walk, needle sharp.
hurricanes travel up the atlantic
make landfall in your current hometown.
there's  clouds on my horizon, summer's over again.

so i follow the path, parallel. i want
to see sugars burnt, dripping off white limbs
against a sea blue eye. let the ac take care
of humidity and frizz, let fires take
care of the rest.


and the one who stayed didn't need to return.
but i left him anyway.