somewhat moved in the temple
during my public speaking class
after the fireworks
I reach for my phone

“truly interesting,” I say to your story at lunch
then under the table, check my phone

deeply moved in the temple
you look at me with love
but I’m remembering my phone

I feel for its smooth screen
in each of my four pockets
I pick up a jacket and can tell from the weight
in fabric it makes a boxy shape

it isn’t fancy
it’s like a dumb boyfriend
a short diary
a live battery

it gives me a little batch of pleasure
it calls out like a pet in a hiding spot

I see my phone and see myself

it vibrates in my hand at the lecture

I put the phone on silent
so no one will wake me
then stare at the screen
waiting for someone to call

I wake from my wedding day
and feel the covers for my phone

when I put it to my face
my face ends calls
my face links calls
the cover-up from my face rubs off onto my phone
like its wearing cover-up on its face
like a silly lover
a dirty mirror

what disappointment when it slips underneath the driver’s seat
an understanding between me and the phone
when I lie and say my phone is dying to get off the phone
I am closer with the phone than the people in the phone

I feel something for my driver’s license
and the raised name of my credit card
a full pack of gum
the heavy authority of keys
but nothing like with the phone

each time I drop it it dimples like a rock

there is an electrical bond between us
it must be coated in germs
it sits nicely at dinner

a sad bolt of freedom when I power it down
on the plane
when they force me

he’s got a camera
so that means he’s a photographer
which means he’s creative
and creative guys are normally hot
hot guys struggle with math
and smoke weed instead
weed makes boys free
and freedom makes guys outdoorsy
the outdoors teach lessons
stars make guys think
the moon is fat like their mother
trees are ominous friends
guys who think too much write songs
and songs seduce me if they aren’t heavy metal
metal isn’t for girls like me
boys who like metal get dick tattoos
and have to stop the tattoo artist halfway through
tattoo artists aren’t real artists
half-finished tattoos show conflict
conflict is the main thing in movies
guys who watch movies have patience
guys who read subtitles have incredible patience
incredible patience is overrated
I like guys who draw on the rubber of their shoes
I want someone who dunks one-handed
or can fix cars
not a style-conscious street photographer
photographers are introverted flirts
pretentious boys are exhausting
they never understand me
I like someone more distracted
but aloof boys are only good in the summer
and summer love is so cliché

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