tears in Hebrew start
from the right side of a page
ending read in waves

You left me on the corner—
I was hoping you would stay.
Bags in the back, cab door
slams and you, with your hands
around my face, like an oyster
shell—and me the pearl, you
say the words that make it hard
for me to stand, you sing,
"You are the only thing in any
room you're ever in." I cannot
drop your gaze but you are sliding
towards the car, slipping in and
sitting down. "I'm stubborn, selfish
and too old." I hold my breath,
your smell within my nose, in
hand my favorite book about
the girl with crazy glue, you know
I think I am that girl, hanging
wrong-side round, from the
ceiling of the sky, you, dangling
from my lips before gravity
lets you down.

No seats on the E train, back
pressed against the smudge-
stained door. You try to
balance on your toes, but your
heels come crashing down.
"You are not a dancer," I said. But
I will keep you anyway.

I made you write a note on a blank
page of the book, between the end
and nothing else. I stole the pen
from your hotel room, I liked the way
it wrote my name in loops. You made
me turn my head while your hand of
Hebrew scratches moved along
the page in waves. I popped Skittles
in my mouth, dropped the wrapper
to the floor. My tongue was blue and
you, gave me back the words.

Not now. Closed the cover, pages
bent to fit inside my purse. Even
if I wanted to, I could not read
it. I am not a translator. My phone
is lost. You said I'll have to find
someone who can.

I watch you drive down
Houston in one disappearing
cloud. And me, walking home
in the opposite direction, I wear
a smile on my face that masks
the most. Pacing past the
footsteps on the street, stopping
only for a moment, catching sun
upon my cheeks. I hold a secret
no one knows—an emptiness that
sits inside my pocket. I hope it
does not show,

but through a friend's friend of
a friend, I find the meaning of
your note, you wrote:

Books in Hebrew start from here.
That is how we think.
The other way around.
Your body meant to mine
and around again.

I can look at your for hours.