Diuretics

 I fell in love with your shadow

and lay on the floor with it while you slept.

We had an affair, your shadow and I

while you made mine visit your parents in Buffalo.

I became contemptuous of you there in bed

reading your stupid pop novels.

You became contemptuous of me on the floor

claiming a headache for the thousandth night in a row.

After the divorce, we sat at outdoor tables with friends

who nodded while we droned and overshared,

laughing, shaking our papier mâché heads, sucking down coffee

as the sun went right through us to the sidewalk, bright af.