modern day break up poetry, circa fall 2006.

i love orange juice because it is mine
it is not ours
to share in recollection
there is no memory here
there is no long walk in the park with pawed hands and yellowed-straws
no cartons have been shook for us
there are no toasted nor brunched champagne flutes
not a cigarette to be w a s h e ddown with
there is no time spent
but my own
and not only in the morning

i love orange juice because it's mine