I saw a man standing in my shadow. I saw him take my time. I saw him build a fire in my absence with wood he reclaimed from the barn my father built.
I wondered why I left and couldn’t remember why I stayed because the angles I had angled for collapsed on themselves.
The sun came up. The sun went down. Seven sidewalks later there was only light and only darkness and the yelling and the slamming doors. Four beers and a dissertation on why it wasn’t ever going to work. Sleep on the floor. Hide under the couch. There’s a gap growing and it can’t be closed.
I see you. I saw you. The belt buckle in the box and the painting all cut up. Slip down the stairs. Check the mail. We’re done here.