You won't Say

You won't say you love me,
But you'll remember how I like my Cuban,
Three ice cubes,
A slice of lime, carved into a love heart,
More coke than rum,
Because otherwise, I'm slurring after one.
I guess I was wrong.

You won't say you love me,
But you'll remember every one
Of my family's names,
So that when I mention one,
You can reply with the other,
And prove to me that you listened,
I guess I was wrong.

You won't say you love me,
But you'll drive me
Across the continent for 18 hours,
Because you know
That a plane would reduce me
To panic attacks and anxiety.
Like life was before you.
I guess I was wrong.

You won't say you love me,
But you will tell me
To leave you for a year,
To go off, to work and live without you,
Because despite what I think,
You'll be right there when I get back,
Waiting,
With a Cuban, a smile, ready to drive me away somewhere.
I must have been wrong.