chocolate donut wonder, by Lilah Jeanne

about how you made me breakfast
and jumped my car
and mapped my freckles like they were sprinkles on your favorite yellow cake

i’d write about how you never steped on cracks in the sidewalk

and always called your mother on sundays at two

i’d write about how you picked up the phone like it was a question

“Hello?”

i’d write about that time we spilled coffee

all over my grandmother’s floral print couch

because we were kissing while holding our mugs

i’d write about your truck

and the notes you’d put in my bag
and the way you rewatched movies you love

like you’d never seen them before

i’d write about how you hated eggs but loved omelets
i’d write about how you talked of my writing while ruffling my hair

“it sounds like your thoughts threw up on a page, junebug”
and how when we got mad we screamed at each other

i’d write about that time we couldn’t agree

on who’s family to see at christmas
so we stayed home
but nothing at home fit the way it used to

i’d write about that time i missed two months

and when i told you, you turned pale as a ghost

because you realized we’d make terrible parents

i’d write about how you slept on the couch when i had the flu

and how you slept on the couch that night

i told you maybe getting married wasn’t a good idea

i’d write about that time i woke up
in the middle of the night
to see you packing a bag
saying you were crashing at a friends house for the next few days

i’d write about how we were so intertwined
i couldn’t remember which books were mine and which were yours

i’d write about how i kept the house and you kept the dog
how i couldn’t sleep in the master bedroom anymore because it felt too empty

how i wore my ring long after the papers were signed
how i felt like i was missing half of myself

and i filled our house with plants and new pictures and a new couch

how soon the pain i felt dulled to the pleasant ache of nostalgia

i’d write about how i saw you at the grocery store the other day

with a small girl holding your hand

she tugged on your sleeve and pointed to the donuts

you lifted her up so she could choose which one she wanted

and i couldn’t miss the flash of gold on your left hand

when she turned her head,
all i could see were your eyes on her big blue ones

wide with chocolate donut wonder