Poems that you love

[Truerenigma]

Tornado
for Andrea Gibson

I admit, you drove me crazy.
The careless way you’d salt a tomato,
no napkin or plate beneath it.
Just right over the floor,
your summer snow, trusting
someone else would sweep it.

And you never took your boots off.
Only ever used half a stevia packet.
The rest would collect in the crevices
of car doors, divots no vacuum could reach.
There was nothing you couldn’t fix
with duct tape, or shoelaces
stolen from other people’s shoes.

And you broke everything
you borrowed. All those stains
you called heart-shaped.
Plus you lost my heirlooms.
Not because you didn’t care,
but because you moved so fast,
like maybe you always knew
you would leave too soon—

so why waste a minute
screwing the cap back on
the pickle jar? Do you remember
how many times you thought
something was stolen?
That we’d been invaded?
Because you couldn’t wait
that extra breath to look.
You loved me

because I always found everything.
I always assured you:
nothing was taken from us.
Not even time.

It’s all such a mess—
how immaculate
the house is now.
All I want is you
tracking muddy bootprints
across my life.

Come back, fix this
with my missing shoelaces.
Why did I care
that we were walking
on salt?

Come home.
I will call it the beach.

-Megan Falley