We haven't spoken in years

We haven't spoken in years.
Even then, just a flurry of letters
From winter to spring
And then we were silent.

It was more than I expected.
Now your arm is touching mine
on the subway going north
in what you call the "heat of madness."

How your face is the same
As when we slept in your father's house
The night you first took my clothes off or
In school like when we met.

My lips are bitter as concrete,
Or maybe it is my own baseness I taste
In the one place you cannot follow.
Our shared separate present

Who betrayed whom?
After watching the moon snared
in the thick cables of the Brooklyn Bridge
After the park and the open fire hydrant

It doesn't matter —
Who you slept with or
The time I said I love you
To someone else.

We didn't plan to meet.
I took the bus out on a whim
To see someone else
Now we're vying for the couch,

Sightseeing together
And laughing like
— It never did
Never should have