Back when I cut it open and left out the middle,

And (for her doing) passed over the halves into her hands,

She said if it weren’t for space and time it could happen,

And it’s not even enough words for me to understand.

I look back to ripe and golden moments we shared,

When we thought that space and time wouldn’t come.

I look back to the bittersweet, red-cheeked affection we bared,

When we only had the grit to give in if we were drunk.

We picked platonics from a tree and played monkey.

We called each other mango since what we had was sweet.

I fiddled my fingers around the things she used to tell me,

Wondering if I was only seeing what I wanted to see.

Over several letters, she said she let naivety sway her.

In my letters, I said what about now?

She said all that space and time created so many layers,

That our lives were beginning to split apart somehow.

Teasing a tired inside joke to make the letter turn sweet,

She concurs with love and reciprocation unplanned.

She ends in all caps: STAY HERE WITH ME (?)

I take the signal and write: WE’LL START A JAZZ BAND.