Up in the Tree

I remember this park

JFK, where I climbed the trees

and Paul kissed me.

I remember this lane

where I pissed half-naked

drunk and stoned once again.

I remember this club

where I met my husband

on one dollar shot nights

barely able to drive

outta the womb.

I remember this bus

where I met my friends

down Park avenue.

I keep on forgetting

that you don’t live here anymore.

I keep on forgetting

that you took my suitcase with you.

I keep on forgetting

you never replied to my letters.

But once in a while

I climb up that tree

old forty-seven year old me

remembering and forgetting

all of our first kisses.

Funny how,

every time I saw you

it was like the first time.

Funny how,

I did not recognize you

from the back anymore.

 

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