his mind was made

up of the past, like

living in a rear window

her car it stalled

out in the back of

some place that they used to go

her ripped blue jeans his uncouth smile

the moon hung like a martyr

the engine gave no reconcile

her eyes said I live closer than farther

his hands were firm

when you held them

you’d swear they could give you more

her lips they held

so many secrets

when they kissed he could surely tell

her crooked smile his plain white t-shirt

was stained with the morning after

his apathy when she said her head hurt

felt like a sitcom without the laughter

they parted ways

like in the movies

left their marks and headed home

her mind was made

up of the past, like

either way he’s sure to go

she walked alone it’s what she asked for

the moon hung like a martyr

he held his tongue like eastern treasure

come on tell me what’s the matter