remember the poetry i wrote for you

along the highway in honoka’a in

the shadow of mauna kea,

my fingers sticky with rambutan and stolen guava?

 

remember the stories i collected in waimea and kona and in

the back of strangers’ toyota priuses,

chevy pick-up trucks,

ford focus hatchbacks,

headed towards unnamed beaches at dawn?

 

remember all the love letters i wrote to you, staring out at hilo bay?

 

neither do i;

you made me watch as you

you burned them all.

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