It was something like football on tv,
the difference between jelly and jam.
Too many stars crowd the sky, as though
everyone has placed a thought there.
Driving alone, I remembered all the things
I should have said to make you miss me.
A steering wheel wet with honest need,
unexpected bats flying at the windshield
like accusations. I brought a six-pack
from the comer store and we drank it
on the floor with the tv off.
Like the first night away from home,
we were edging around a pool
into which we had already jumped.