Romaine

Tonight I’m standing over my tiny kitchen sink assembling a salad and thinking about last August. The week, day, early evening you told me you were falling. Like my lettuce, from bag to porcelain bowl but much nicer than that. Less green, more lust. You said it in a way that heard from anyone else would maybe most likely definitely have sent me running. Far into the other direction, like the handful of times it had before. But instead I had the overwhelming urge to stay hovering over my $14 salad in between the sidewalk and the wooden benches they used to have on the corner of N 4thand Driggs. So I guess the only reason I’m even brining this up is because I think of you whenever I unpack bags of mixed greens. Kale. Arugula? Romaine too. Depressing prepackaged salads mostly. But also the ones I’ve bought for $14. Anything green really. I googled romaine and I think we’re in the clear now by the way. Though somehow I still feel a little sick to my stomach.