cardiac arrest: for August 2016 

When the air hits a certain temperature 

somewhere around 70

(I never check, I don’t want to know)

it feels like those days,

septembers in your bed all day

listening to Bon Iver

and feeling like forever. 

When in my dreams I’m remembering

not to drink any alcohol out of aluminum cans,

specifically,

for some subconscious and arbitrary reason,

and I turn around, and you are there,

and I turn around, and you are there,

and now you are feeling something I am not,

a septembers’ worth of release

and I am tensely strategizing how to get out

and back to any other dream I’ve had. 

When every line seems so obviously misinterpreted but you can’t put your finger on it, how gauche.

When you stopped using the word “you,”

because I stopped wanting all the things you 

finally wanted to give to me. 

Did you dream about us sitting in a pickup truck last night too? 

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