The Short of It

I look into the past:
Memories like broken glass,
People, places, tiny shards.
Then your face.
I fell so hard.
Blink it back.
Not again.
I’ll drown in sleep instead.

Ears open to the sounds
I can’t lose the things I’ve found.
Hands on waists.
Tracing scars.
Out of place.
Near and far.
Your words were grandiose.
Laughter outside a bar.
You spoke more and less than most.
Arms that felt like stone.
A laughing comment on the bus.
There together (but alone).
An overwhelming sense of trust.
The fire escape at dark.
Fingers on a thigh.
A silent, snowy park.
The eyes:
Brown, green and blue.
There isn’t one of you.
You broke my spirit,
I broke your hearts.
We ripped ourselves apart.

Every time I turned away
You were there another day.
When I reached for you in truth
You’d faded into youth.
Different faces every time.
Same story.
Different rhyme.


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