That day,
your birthday and the few hours
before felt like my birthday
our favorite day.
When you ate all 15
cookies I made
drank sparkling wine
and carried me
to bed.
Smoked your “last” cigarette
at midnight held me in your arms
until we both fell
asleep.
Woke up in my bed
so small, hands numb
from sleeping on them.
Drove to lunch the next day,
hand on your thigh
and parking lot pleasure.
Nine course dinner, gazing in your eyes
Manual drive slash stimulation.
One more time before you leave
“Here’s your final present, baby.”
I wanted to spend my birthday with you
playing love songs on the piano
you bought me too early
walking through rose bushes
in the park
we fought in in November.
Holding
you, my favorite
present, until we both fell asleep.
And we’d laugh in the morning
how it felt like your birthday
because you had so much fun.
We’d stay there all day
wrapped in my sheets
hands numb from sleeping
on them
lost all day
in my bed
so small
I had to sleep half on top of you.
But my birthday wish
was to sleep inside
of you.
Shrink myself to a cell and live
in your heart
But
you bought that piano
too soon.
We didn’t get to see the roses.
And I spent my birthday
alone
wrapped in my sheets
alone
hands numb from sleeping on them,
occupying half the bed to save
room for your ghost.
