I’m surveying the damage after a storm.

We made out on my couch for three hours and then I made him 

leave Chocolate covered gummy thin mint confidence Sleeve 

of double stuffed It’s always too much or never 

enough Graham cracker

betty crocker 

vanilla 

bean 

fluff

I’m surveying the damage after a storm: Upturned pillows of my sectional, spilled Sancerre.  My therapist, Dr. John, asks if I’m compartmentalizing—Membrane of the days dissolve into our new season; Cardi B says WHAT WAS THE REASON

It was never physical.

Where does this come from, asks Dr. John.

I tell Alex, I asked for this, I’m getting what I want. 

The present progressive, the unfinished action, the never getting there.

A bed of soft brownie butter under us in the hard candy crystals of geologic time. 

Emily sounds like cotton candy at the Huntington Gardens among the lemon lime philodendrons and the pines.

Active Ozymandias in the candy aisle Cassandra

of hot cocoa with the mini marshmallows Enheduanna

of marijuana gummies Cars speed by without me

in mind like the newly youth’d Clouds too The sun 

is undefeated on Western on Fountain on Wiltern on Beverly on Highland on Sunset

on Pico ON PICO Cruising at the plant shop with pink

eye I tell Dr. John I’m doing things 

again.

I’m trying to be sweet. A repeating pattern of saccharides.

It was never physical.

We made out for three hours and then I made him leave my house Dane says balletic svelteness Mato says big lavender energy Andy says sunrise tuxedo Morgan says crying on the picket line Alex says the sea is attracted to everyone Olivia says dracula walked that fucking duck When does sweetness go from enriching an experience to distracting from one It was never physical I tell Dr John nerds rope chocolate covered cookie dough bites sweet tarts starbursts the kinetic impacts in space the formation of organic life savers lord love a gummy strawberry frozen margarita salt rim boozy milkshake mcflurry Chantal 

says neuroplasticity. Niqui says past lives.

Dane says cokebottlegummiescadburycrèmeeggsandsourwatermelonslices. 

Andy says twix.

Bobby says reeces. 

Mato says tropical mini swedish fish and sweet tart ropes.

Christine says hi-chews. 

Olivia says M&Ms. 

Tazbah says strawberry sour patch straws. 

Alex says golden wrapped gummy bears Luke says hongyuan classic series guava.

We made out in my house and then I made him leave—

I’m surveying the damage after a storm, I tell my audience

but there’s no after a storm. Just time in between. 

At lunch he says we can go slow says he’s a safe harbor

says he’s not my ex But all I see are choppy seas and craggy pop rocks—

Breathe.

Tazbah says grand entry Niqui says juice cleanse Bobby

Says rare earth magnets Morgan says meds Morgan says 

shift freedom Christine says severance My body is doing

donuts The pants are coming off and then the pants

are gone The Kelly Clarkson show is on Nothing makes

sense but everything makes perfect sense

like a Bjork song

We made out for three hours and then I made him 

leave my house It tasted like blood orange soda 

from the Franprix and getting fingered on the river It 

was never physical, I tell Dr. John. I’m just afraid 

of checking my messages answering my 

phone I’m afraid of getting home 

but it was never physical I move to the other side of the country Do you think there are other people on other planets, says Jodie Foster’s kid version of Dr. Eleanor Arroway in 1997’s Contact as played by Jena Malone who I probably knew from Saved! Or Donnie Darko but wish I could say it was Bastard Out of Carolina HEY 

he says

I can go if that’s what you want.

I say Song of India I say Sansevieria Starfish I say Sansevieria Midnight I say Sansevieria Moonshine I say Green Bean Peperomia I say Pearls & Jade I say various Monstera I say Alocasia I say – HEY

he says.

Alex says UFO plant Morgan says weird ass pileas Olivia 

says peace lily Joe says monstera adansonii

Aliaa says falsa aralia Migizi says zz Sarah says a pot

Of pothos Niqui says money tree Roy says bird

of paradise 

He says help me with my prayer plant It’s got crispy edges Denne says tri-color syngonium white albo pink splash prince of orange global green gold dust croton wandering purple queen marble

He’s not your ex, says Dr. John. I’m not him, he says. If you feel it in your body, it is physical. I survey the storm. We’re on the slate grey sectional. Pure marzipan light beams from a tightly coiled mass of arms and legs and spread 

intentions.

You gotta trim back the dead edges, I say. The plant can’t save them and shouldn’t try. By pruning, the plant can focus on new growth. Cloudy numbers drift across the wint-o-green sky.

I say can we do this 

I ask, can we do this? 

Holding hands on the picket line. Fiber cookies. Hoya hearts. Farmers markets. Staying the night.