it’s not the skipping of rocks gliding and plopping into a lake too cold to swim in that brought me here

shivering in a vest i never wear

it’s yours

it’s not the drive through green thistle conifers hugging our travels that brought me here

gazing out the window past emotions filling the glove box

those are yours

it’s not the musty poof from the couch i drop on, sitting in a unlit room waiting for you to bring in our bags that brought me here

that’s your job

it’s not the shifting in a twin bed, creaking as i stir, wanting to spoon out the cure that brought me here

those nights are rehearsed

it’s not the sandwich lunches, served dinners, or bacon and eggs that brought me here

i usually eat alone

it’s not the late nights sitting with flames losing myself in sparks dancing on stick tip games that brought me here

you stoked the fire

it’s not you

grade school, high school too, claims

it’s me

i wanted to discuss my attire, shift in the seat, lie on your love seat, roll on our mattress, wake and sustain life to see you glow across the cylindrical container where humans first realized

everything is illuminated