with a line by Regina Spektor
I stand outside a New Orleans coffeeshop in an Indiana town, my face all summer sun, having just decided I will let my lover love his wife. This is how I remember romance: a rubber band. The longing in its pull, the welt left by its snap. I left soulmate on a curb outside an abandoned gas station, fate and destiny its burned-out neon signs. I tucked god in a bright white nativity and walked away. I know there's no such thing as mine. But reverence. Abandon. This hulking, dramatic beast, roaring against its harness, my hands raw from the leash. I know there's no such thing as mine. Still I seek a yard where it is safe for him to play.