I still wish you'd fought me.
This is the first thing
that I've been able to write
since I left you.
I left you parked
in the lot beside
the business men
so many months ago.
You hid your face
so they wouldn't
watch you weep.
There's no humility in business.
I'm having a hard time
telling myself that this
is right.
Choking on unjust guilt,
I wrap my legs
around him and pretend
that it's you,
just to see how it feels.
I don't want him to know,
but it's never the same.
What's done is done.
My heart is undone.
And I keep running.
It's providence they say,
yet I still find myself
with shoeboxes of your
high school pictures.
I'm dodging the
bullets of your memory.
I'm hiding under old
silk coats,
waiting.
I've always been waiting.
Waiting for you to
come around;
for your sweet mouthful
of actions.
I don't know how
long it's been since
you cared.
All of the clocks have stopped.
And it all comes
down.
It all comes down to
me;
to you;
to me and you
and us.
I know that I walked away;
but all that I wanted was
for you to follow.
- 12/10/05 C.L.B.