Smaller

The summer grows sparse after its early fever,
rain quieting down and us too I suppose.

I take to arguing with a pretty girl
at a bar and then kissing her on the mouth,
accepting late night phone calls despite
everyone's best interests and
the fact I can barely stand when it rings.

I feel smaller now
that I only know where you are
when you're in the same room as me

the space I inhabit suddenly confined
to that sliver my body takes up
    my edges definitive
    except for in those rare seconds
that I cross someone else's mind

It's not what I want
not the affirmation of a pretty thing
but to sit low against the leather of a dark car
and pass quiet, protected over limestone hills

when you're young, all you want is to get lost
older now, I've been drinking to remain stationary
but it's going to be any day now
that I run myself out of this town.