How to Say I Loved You (poem)

You once picked up my disembodied shoe
and held it close to your ear
as if you could hear all
the steps I have taken
if you pressed it against your skin.
I made you give it back
because I needed it for the long walk
home. You understood
but it took you a moment to understand.
That was a long time ago,
though, and I cling to this memory
like a good old dog because...
Now we are divorced,
the merry unmarried imps
that we are. And I won’t speak
for you, but I will loudly decree
that none of this has been worth it
to me. Not even the image
of you, timeless and drunk on your floor
with my black leather shoe
tight in your grip.