How To Leave A City

By Ruth de Cerff

I see you, nostalgia!

Making the banal shape shift

Oh, you’re cruel

But
I welcome you in

I get drunk with you anyway

And now
You have me lusting
After furniture I’ve cursed for bruising my toes
Sheets that smell sweet with my sweat
Hallways that have steadied my step
And a mountain I’ve ignored

And now I’m wondering

How a person leaves a place without their own bones?

Without the art that took a year to frame

And the green crumbs that could still be salvaged

Without forgiveness from that friend

Even though I know the answer!

I know

To clink a glass
And sigh a sky

To wipe the honey jar

And pray out loud to an empty room

To break my bones
And pack my bags

To kiss off the light switch

Because my hands are full

And to close my eyes during this car ride

I have always known

That this is How to leave a city