I think about her every day.
The way she smelled—
she was a girl who
smelled good and therefore made me
feel like I stunk, but I think I loved that.
Every other exhale was a laugh,
but always a laugh that was with you,
like she understood what I meant
by all of that saying-nothing,
what my Sunday mornings sounded like,
what the rosaries hanging on my dashboard were for.
It always felt like us against the world.
You must believe me, Melissa.
I am a woman weak
with want and kill is such a strong word.
The gun? I bought the gun to protect
myself. Her father, he … well,
you don’t need to know these things.
Just know that I needed something
to cradle at the time. Just know that
it was the only thing I felt
I was allowed to touch.