K| Last I Heard

We are made up of the same sticks

and stones and mud that we built into castles–

no, fortresses, we called them

in our backyards.

There was a line that separated our respective grasses

and it was on that line that we declared

our continent.

At one point, we were not afraid of cobwebs and attics,

but then, we watched that rated-R movie about that

serial killer in the attic with the cobwebs,

and it seemed like everything changed.

Last I heard, you moved to Atlanta

and that one time you messaged me on Facebook,

late November of last year, you told me about all

the Atlanta boys and the way they stared at you

and I thought about how much

we had both changed.

Maybe it’s a good thing or maybe it isn’t.

Either way it’s too late to do

anything about it now.

I wanted to ask why you didn’t mention

your mom’s cancer, but then

I wondered why I thought you would have.

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