anniversary

                                                                                              Montreal, feb, 22-23, 2011

we sat in the back row, all those empty seats sprawling ahead

we fooled around a bit, just because, then stopped and watched the movie instead.

i recall nothing of it, the flicker of a vibe behind the eyelids, but even now i wake up

some mornings with that soundtrack in my head, tinny and broken.

past midnight at the metro, your week-pass had expired

so we faced each other for a long moment across the turnstile

til you found change for the machine. it was bitter cold, my coat too thin,

all along Mont-Royal cardboard piles lay stacked in the snow for recycling night. 

earlier that day, my silver ring had slipped off and gone, leaving

an ominous lightness. you'd never seen me cry before, nevermind over so small a thing

so i sobbed harder, i howled in your arms. for everything clung to, everything lost 

for all that's mine alone, however much i'd like to share or let go.

at 3 a.m. we were still on the blue sofa, replaying youtubes,

our knees not even touching, like solemn strangers in waiting rooms

tending to separate worries, hoping by morning something will have lifted

or opened, so whatever had happened with us wouldn't have to be spoken.