Ghost of the Parking Lot


I remember what it was like to stand in the middle of
A crowded parking garage and kiss you as if I would never see you again.
I haven’t seen you in 7 years and still I hear the wind in your hair
The sound of my tentative footsteps going up to your room
The sound of my heart like a drum circle, as I marveled at my luck
And then breaking into a million pieces when you disappeared from my life
It’s as if I was a cherry pit spit out
Even if my words were indeed a little moldy, or at least too plentiful
I don’t know how to be quiet–neither my mouth nor my heart
I see your house in my dreams
And wish it were mine.

You might say you were being strangled by my constant attention,
And “I became a ghost so I can breathe again
I need to become light as a feather
I need to become a rainstorm in spring
I need to feel safe as who I am”

And I might say “a rainstorm in spring”…when I was
A child, and it rained, I used to crawl under
My father’s desk and look out the back window
I felt safe watching the rain pour down
Outside the glass that kept the scary world at bay

That’s how I felt when our lips met in the parking lot
And the cars were voyeurs
And for once in my life, after the long night of mourning,
I could breathe


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