On too warm night in a too hot bar wrapped around him
Both of you sipping Crown over melting rocks
Listening to Indie playing on the bartender’s iPod
You would see the bartender slide a glass of whiskey down the bar
To one of the few customers on that too slow Friday night.
The too drunk customer gazing up at the soundless TV
At the final scores of the night
Didn’t notice the glass sliding past him
In that empty bar
That somehow stayed open year after year
With the local bands that only played for local bars.
You leaning into him, chin on his shoulder
His arm wrapped around you
Would see the glass sliding too fast on the worn wood bar.
And in that moment when the glass shattered
That moment when the gun shot of glass sounded against the worn wood floor
You would think years later at the moment he let you go
That moment when he said no
That single word that ended this too lost relationship
In the too warm truck on that too cold day behind the coffee shop
With too many tears
And too few minutes because you knew these would be the last with him
“That is my heart.”