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.