When I saw you again, the trees swallowed their tongues.
All around us, shards of glass. The remnants of a party. You kept calling me Christine
and I had no idea why.
Somewhere a sad film is playing to an empty room. On the screen, a woman can’t stop dialing a black rotary phone.
In French, the word dénouement means, quite literally, the act of untying.
So you asked for directions to the liquor store. I just stood there. Like the statue of Columbus. His stuttering bride.