I rang you to ask
if you wanted to go
to the movies,
like I always did,
for it was our routine,
and I, in my naivety,
believed it would
always be so,
for we were us
and I and you
would always be
a truth.
I rang you in
my sincere routine
but in your hesitation
you told another truth
that you did not want
what we were now
and what we had become,
and you uttered coldly
those dreaded, dreaded words,
“I can’t see you again!”
I felt the heavy word “sorry”
hit me with a cosmic force,
as you said it with finality,
and then the call
ended with silence
and the static of the universe,
and that was all
that I was offered as
a chill goodbye in
the sober partial
light of muddied dusk
on a sweaty summer day.
9/1/2017