Poetry: Break-Up Call

by Kya Buller

Is this a mistake, my calling you? / Do you remember too? Our serious love.  / The love that couldn’t wait. / Do you remember it? I remember how we became, / two bodies, always joined. One bed, / a mess of arms holding, some tangled legs, 

Our names joined in people’s mouths, / second nature. / We could have been a slow song, / or an appliance. / Something beautiful, something useful. / We were so close, / they would have had to peel us apart. / Sometimes when I can’t write -
         I can hear your low voice / flowing toward me / like a lazy water, / like those Venetian canals! / Remember the Rialto bridge? / How could anything have ever been so beautiful? / And that lasagne we shared on Christmas Day —well I guess I’m getting off track so just let me get to the point —

‘Slow and steady.’ / Still comforting, / that’s the deepest cut. / ‘It will come back to you, if you let it.’ / Big plans. / You grinning, with all your teeth. / And your skilled hands,
My hero, / setting fires. / The sadness came. Then it went. Then it came again, but then it stayed, didn’t it? / And you were so tired,
       You know, I can’t even think about Drag Race without filling up! My face starts to sting. Do you think I’m pathetic? It reminds me of you. / In those memories you are always laughing. 
       There was an almost-baby. I know you remember that. Well, they would have loved you.

It doesn’t matter which bed I’m in. I sleep on the left hand side. / I bring my knees right up to my chin, and squeeze.
When I’m alone, I leave space. / Maybe I should be leaving more. / I still remember the particulars, the


            and fall

     of your chest as you dreamt. / I still respond to your ghost-touch / at night. / I dream about us, and in my dreams we are always ready, / but there is never enough of what we always needed. / Never enough time,