Vapors

I kissed the rain goodbye in June.

Wet tarmac held the blue light,

the night, and you:

.

in a quarrel with clouds over the moon,

looking skyward for a fight.

I kissed the rain goodbye in June,

.

I packed up half the forks and spoons,

your favorite knife,

the night, and you

.

drove desert-bound by noon.

I stayed the whole next day inside

and kissed the rain goodbye in June,

.

she painted shadows on our empty rooms.

By dark, I couldn't abide

the night, and you

.

texted only platitudes.

July sun tries coaxing me outside;

I miss the rain, goodbyes in June,

the night, and you.