I broke my key in a lock of an old home
I’ve never lived wanting it to be my own
Lately I’d rather wander the earth
Than ride to the end of the line I regret not
Missing my stop on buses in Jerusalem
Because of borders on which I’ve lived
Because why can’t she and why can’t she
Live with whomever
Wherever I’m a little tired
More than that of all the hate
And all the hours I fought
The shuq closing on friday evening I forget
The sabbath no longer keep my key
Still broken
My husband has made copy after copy and puts post-its
On the front door yet I still forget
They are post-its I only see tangerine
And lime green I forgot to tell you
They taste like nothing nor do they bloom
And fly out of crumpled cocoon I forgot to tell you
I am less and less hungry
These days it’s always something
Crushing my insides with songs of revenge
And worry that I want to bleed for everything
That I sometimes do and I forgot to tell you
The trees I still cannot name on Skillman Avenue
Weep for the butterflies that will never be
I forgot to tell you that I ate just enough death
By chocolate to have said I’d ate the whole damn thing
That for days I was last seen
Circling
All of the trees in queens in the furthest reaches
Of queens that for every million ovals
A perfect ring
For a planet that perhaps
Needed me I forgot to tell you my dear friend
That I love you after you said it to me
How it rang true
And rang past me to this world
This world not only