Feir

that night I didn’t kiss you
outside Tony’s
on the pier
or that time you said
you loved me
and I ordered you
a beer

the way I couldn’t stand it
when you sought
my shifting eyes
or the senselessness
I spouted
in ambiguous
replies

when you tried to hold my hand
I’d find somewhere else
to put it
and when anything felt
green
I’d find some way to
uproot it

and that night I left you crying
outside Tony’s
on the pier
as the surf
plowed through the pilings
I heard every
tumbled
tear