It took my ex eight trips

to bring me all my stuff

and yet

my ski boots are still in his closet

and what about the books I compulsively bought

in used bookstores all over Philadelphia?

All those pages that will never be read

since we don’t really love the same novels

while certainly agreeing on all the classics.

His car smells like home,

adventures,
and disasters.

For a minute I feel nostalgic

but soon I am too busy

searching for the closest 

                                     perfect

                                                 vegan 
                                                           place

where we’ll talk about everything

even Kendra

and I’ll tell him about my lovers.