had logo

Said she was tired of watching me shapeshift

into my pillars of salt. Packed up her gardening

gloves, her tool belts of queen anne’s lace

& dental dams & shorter press on nails.

Left the picture frames, took the polaroids

of the Atlantic Ocean & its pale green chorus of yes,

the opera that would bloom beside the algae, how

every animal could make a meal of its captured

light. I tried everything; tracked her instagram reels

to Puerto Vallarta & Costa del Sol, where she drinks

strawberry daiquiris & falls in love with fishermen

& never thinks about the conditions of her quitting,

the dark room or the hands that brought us there,

or how after, I took off my mother’s ring because

I couldn’t escape her luck, but down the street,

the ramshackle houses are hugged by the shore,

& in the sub-tidal nets, even the bivalves, the most

guarded & barnacled of us gleam. I am trying to be less

foolish. I don’t know if forgiveness finds us when

we deserve it the least. Sometimes, I get postcards

from desire. They say I do miss you, but don’t

mistake that for me wishing you were here