while i butter my sesame seed bagel,

9.30 (tuesday morning)

i realize it’s been awhile since i thought of you

so after breakfast

i add to my grocery list

and i get on my bike and ride to the supermarket five blocks away

today is a special occasion, given my realization.

and just my luck, nostalgia, half off.

i smile as i put the jar into my shopping cart.

the fluorescence of the supermarket lights

casts an odd warmth on me.

the flicker takes me back to the world spiralling as we star tipped,

as i hold the jar i hear us laughing beneath the tree.

while i buy fresh salmon i smell the brine of the ocean.

i turn into the aisle and i hear the familiar timbre

a voice of melted candle wax

no, it’s been too long. confusion. static on the intercom.

i drop the jar.

as i remember it,

this is now.

here,

in 5,

bumping into you in the produce aisle

holding a bag of peaches and a parcel of spinach going home to your girlfriend

a fake smile, we should catch up sometime

probably doesn’t remember the inside jokes

probably doesn’t remember the public transit rides

probably doesn’t remember the emotional bandages

gravity is not on my side today.

shards of glass,

citrus tears.

i knock down a pyramid of grapefruit.

bittersweet.