isn't it funny
how connections
that we think we've made
always fail
and glow red, smoking
through the electrical tape
and old friends wash up
feet cemented
to the bottom of
the pier and you're stuck calling
their co-employees
trying to dispel the fear

i could have called you
as you panicked
about your second move from home
despite the fact that
since we broke up
i haven't touched my phone
much less heard tell
about rochesterv and the people you met there
and if you're dating
i only know that
since you left, you've been doing really, really well

the taste of your glance
was tart with summer
and the pressure of the room
smashed my kneecaps
and i just fell cos
the looks you fired struck so true
and all through winter
i clung to you
like a widow to a grave
and i could forget you
or rebefriend you
i'm just not sure which choice is brave