Thursday she posted the new apartment

Thursday she posted the new apartment.

High ceilings. Good light from the south.

I was eating cereal for dinner—

nothing better in the house.

I put the phone down on the counter.

Picked it back up. Went through the set:

the shelf, the wall, the window, the light.

Hit the heart. The heart went red.

I ate the rest of what was in the bowl,

gone soft. The blue from the phone

spread on my ceiling, which is low

and cracked in three places I've known

long enough to name.

I liked the post. I did it quick.

I'm still deciding what to call

the feeling—envy, or something sick

and quieter than that.