the looks

zip codes and love lines

he came back to the east coast.
it’s temporary,
but i’m never sure if we are.
if he still can make me
feel like a child
i am not sure
i will find “no” in my
vocabulary. 

time is suspect.
back when i was twelve and
love was unrequited, 
at the turn of nineteen i 
found his sheets coarse
his girlfriend jealous and
i an unconscious temptress.

i would have sworn
i loved him,
justification of
the same unfaithfulness
that continues to keep
my chest tight and
the rest of me docile

but maybe it’s 
the memories,
his green eyes
like fractals  
his voice that still
sings me
to sleep

i’m coming home but
not for him and 
admittedly,
sometimes,
i miss the days
when he left me
weak in the knees.