Kodak Ghosts

I miss you in January
The fireworks and the revelry
As the time falls back into place
Loved ones locked in embrace
And yet I think about your lips
But a fresh start nonetheless

I miss you in February
We never got to Valentines, did we
At Candlelight dinner
“You’ve never looked finer”
Heart shaped balloons and
Our yearly trip to the moon

I miss you in March
Did we fall asleep on the couch
Hot chocolate and old movies
Garlic sticks and weed gummies
Take me in your mouth and say
Don’t you dare go into work today

I miss you in April
My lungs and your bicycles
Bicker in public parks
Adam Smith and Karl Marx
You’re Pollock, I’m Dali
You’re Lucy, I’m Charlie

I miss you in May
Lime and Dulce de Leche
Hot tub shenanigans
Russian interventions
Chicken soup and groceries
Kangaroos and Plan B

I miss you in June
“Where IS the laundry room?”
Ex-boyfriend look-alikes
Zach better know how to fight
4 pm and I’m on that metal bench
A guesstimate of when your class ends

I miss you in July
You’re ticked off by younger guys
Tame Impala and bleeding toes
Cockroaches and Champagne woes
My manic pixie dream girl
Wears green nighties in the real world

I miss you in August
That 60 dollar pizza crust
Commitment Issues vs Overbearing Asshole
Okay-Turn-Left and “Let’s keep things casual”
Breakfast sandwiches and Daddyo’s pasta
(How the fuck do you even spell Missisauga?)

I miss you in September
There’s not really much to remember
Except Skype calls and Sporcle quizzes
My dickhead friends and virtual kisses
Bug bites and reading Sine as Sin
Maybe that’s all we should have ever been

I miss you in October
We’re gonna start this all over
Zoom call dates and post nut clarity
“Oof Baboof” and “Actie Pants Patootie”
Arguments over naming non-existent kids
Part time jobs to pay for make-believe trips

I miss you in November
You still make my heart surrender
But the cracks have started to appear
Bed bug hurdles and immigration fears
Some part of me knew this would always fail
Every love has its own cautionary tale

I miss you in December
I wish things would get a little better
You’d move on and I’d swipe next
No more dwindling in subtext.
The fireworks come around and I’ll be a mess
So I’ll miss you in January, but just a little less


 

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