one time, she waited for me in the hall, all prickly pear cold and full of jealousy. her clothes were wrinkled, like she'd slept in them. and she probably had. head and arms leaning out of the corner of the window of her jeep, dried pink vomit at the corner of her mouth.
“ you werent there”
“i didnt want to see you like that”
and she walked away.
one time, she held my hand as we walked in and out of the rows of apple trees.
“ do you like pie?”
“yeah”
“apple?”
“yeah”
“i wish i could bake. i would bake you an apple pie”
there was happy and skeptical on her face, smudged around her mouth. life in her eyes.
she's up there. shes up there in the stars, counting the stars, being the stars.
and she's filling up the clouds with happiness to rain down on me.