Nineteen

With a line from Kiki Petrosino

Journal, mixtape, leather coat.
Car key clink in a thrift store purse.
Lighter, ticket stub, someone’s backyard.
Moonrise, nose ring, The Cranberries.

Car key clink, a thrift store, my purse
heavy with make-up, a bottle of coke.
Moonrise, nose ring, cranberry
and vodka, the night air taste, clarity.

Heavy make-up, rum and coke
on the lawn. His hands, my hair,
and vodka all night. Cold air, clarity,
everything green—we were spinning

on the lawn, his hands everywhere
and mine, too. Cartwheels,
everything green, everything spinning
and loud. I loved him that night:

mine. We circled each other for weeks.
Rewind, press play, same songs
so loud. I thought I loved him,
wrapped around his finger.

Rewound. Pressed play. Same song:
lighter, ticket stub, same backyard.
Same wrapped around his finger:
journal, mixtape, lead, choke.