My tea burns on the stove
The late sunlight
lazily squirms through the kitchen blinds –
dizzy and drunk
I turn a page of the yellowed calendar
The winds travel swifter
and the air-stings are colder
My roommate hangs another string of lights
over the empty walls
We try to make a stranger’s place, our own
It’s the end of another year
“Life slips by fast!” I remember telling this to you
I look at my palms,
the lines all cross the same,
much like they used to ten years ago
She asks me to make a wish before
the lights are on
I close my eyes and wonder about having you.
What would the Sundays be?
Where would the new
How many pictures will be up on the wall?
Do we get dogs or cats?
“Ask for something realistic, ready?”
I pause, then I ask to forget you.
I ask to forget about years, places
and stolen memories
“Realistic!” she beams before pressing the switch
I shut my eyes tighter and settle for a pair of socks.