A Story About Love
I thought maybe we could
immerse ourselves in fairy-tale's
of what we wanted, but never had.
I called you one night, when drunken
antics were too heavy.
You picked me up and we fucked.
In the morning you gave me the first
two cups of coffee—
Sitting on your tiny bed, wrapped
up in my skirt and feelings of love that
I thought were gone, I imagined
us together again, but different—
and then you told me about her.
I heard a million screeching brakes
We made great friends, and when
she was gone you told me you were dying.
That day in the parking lot outside of the
Tavern, standing next to your car, I wanted
to devour it all.
But it took you.
Now you stroll through the darkest
parts of my dreams: it's like coming home.
God I loved you, truly.