titles and bits of poems i start in my head on the bus and never finish

a certain sadness comes
with leaving

would i be the same
if she were here

you say i saved your life

the zen of spider solitaire

and all i can think
about is

sliding down the sunburnt hillside
jumping over the
walls topped by shards of glass
like my brother's gel-spiked hair

just to reach those
perfect verdini,
little green figs
dripping with sweetness

tear them open to see the rubies
glistening inside
before you pop
them into
your mouth