tunnels in the moon
We’re going to Mars because
I can’t find you.
You’re not at the deli, you’re
not behind the wall
with the mural
where the tree grows out.
Your mother hasn’t heard from you in weeks.
I guess I decided to go before then,
you’ve been half out and half in since we
You took the train upstate to that
drafty old bitch of a house where I lived.
We slept on unfinished floors and
watched stars turn.
We are two hearts.
What I didn’t find in you was
under the bed but I gave it up for lost.
I ran on asphalt for three days and
didn’t find you.
Maybe you’ll find me red and underground.
Or they’re building tunnels in the moon.
We could make a sort of life together there.