Let’s just see if it fits, and your voice blurred, your hand brushing away mine, me laughing because seriously who says that? I flashed out of my body picturing you saying this to other girls, and laughed again. Those are words that can only be said late at night in an outer borough, while Manhattan glitters in rows of mocking unison from over the bridge. Those are the moments when I think how did I get here followed shortly by okay whatever, like now, sitting in the park, watching couples strolling hand-in-hand. Once I made you cupcakes. In the morning before I left, I arranged them on a plate and left them on your kitchen table. Don’t worry, you weren’t the first one I’ve done that for. I’ll just think of the whole thing as a stretching exercise.
Angela Veronica Wong is the author of Dear Johnny, In Your Last Letter, chosen by Bob Hicok as a 2011 Poetry Society of America New York Chapbook Fellowship.
Amy Lawless is the author of the poetry collection Noctis Licentia, the chapbookElephants in Mourning, and the forhtcoming chapbook My Dead.