Thoughts, not really about the sky at all.

This is Kyle’s room!
He’s going to be here at the end of May
I think we are going to be good friends
I spent two hours at work putting together a playlist for him
Because he sent me his on a flash drive.

I hope he’ll see why Tarkio is soothing
And pick out the truth on every subway car
We’ll watch Firefly and have a home together
There’re red ships and green ships
But there’s no ship like partnership
(I’ll show him why that’s beautiful)
But then-

“Happy Friday, any weekend plans?”
I texted, oblivious
I wonder if he ever read that,
and thought, yes, I have plans
big plans-
To suck off my Smith & Wesson
I won’t be around for the climax-
-or the cleanup.

I didn’t try to text again.
…was worried I was bothering him.

I got a call from his phone today, but it wasn’t his voice
It was…
it was-
-this was
…going to be Kyle’s room.

If Kyle had ever passed me on the street, I wouldn’t have recognized him
But he sent me all of his favorite songs
We both liked George Strait and Fur Elise
He was learning to play the violin.

I bought a queen bed frame in anticipation of his move
Not because we were going to fuck on it,
Just because he said he had an extra mattress I could use.

Seems wrong to look for one now, and the headboard leans uselessly
against the wall.

It’s been raining for weeks now
It’s probably just springtime in the mountains.
But it’s nice to think-
To think-
Maybe the sky
is sentimental
Is this why people want to believe in a god?
In a more than this?
I really don’t see the connection.
Me, I’ll just pretend
-think
-imagine that
I’ll just believe that-
the sky is sentimental.

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