June 12th

This time last year

was river-fed and angular
was stirred by crystal zephyrs
was your smirk in my brain’s scrapbook
was meticulous merriment
was drops gathered in word sponges
was crabgrass between my toes
was how I’d imagined you’d smell
was the ratcheting of crickets
was the aching rise of pitch at the end of your sentence
was time slick with the artful varnish of optimism
was the grain of your beard crumbling beneath my breath
was toasted foolishness
was our absurd valentine