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Image for the poem Reassembly Required

Reassembly Required

   
It's not that I don't have the ingredients    
to be a proper man.    
A curious-worthy man.    
It's that so much is scattered.    
How much time do you have...    
     
At the dining table,    
forking around with our    
April thanksgiving.    
Our third date;  
No more napkins  
covering our laps.  
Seems more like the twentieth,
as our disclosures are shared,  
consumed with of course's.      
Yet one, covered, stainless domed lid;  
 
Do you know I fell in love with you    
during conversation?    
I kept it to myself,    
because it didn't seem to fit in    
right away.    
So I set it aside, and just listened    
-Set it under a pile of routine words    
of how our individual days went.    
     
And later, your unprepared smile,    
glistening over your coffee mug,    
your enthusiasm mimicking caffeine.    
Your eyes alight, like two brown tents    
of a circus,    
yet emitting the thrills    
of what's inside.    
     
And I loved you quietly.    
Because I didnt want    
to stop the show.    
     
When you say "I'm just me".    
And all I know is    
that it's like saying    
that Eiffel is just a tower.    
That just sitting here,    
we've lived two or three lives out    
in my head, each one better    
than the last.    
And when you ask me    
what I'm thinking,    
all I admit to, is    
that blouse looks good on you.    
     
~    
     
We've killed our fear, of the bear    
as it stood crowding us, confused    
by our incomplete shadows    
in this dim-lit room.    
-We're still learning us, as    
its wild breath heaves over us.    
As I speak, it leans at me    
waiting for me to trip up    
and I will be eaten by regret.    
You distract it, with a sigh.    
It can't turn its ears    
in two directions,    
so it settles back, on its haunches.    
     
If it knew, all it ever says    
is one word; Doom.    
But it can't digest our glee,    
or our intoxication    
when drinking from    
the fountain of truth.    
So it moves on, to go find    
someone depressing    
and consume them.    
     
Fortunate? We ignored it    
so it sauntered away.    
Not even playing dead;    
Combining our hands    
made us twice as big, and    
the bear knew it had no chance.    
     
~    
     
Do you know, that    
you get prettier by the sentence?    
As you tell me what makes you happy,    
I'm adding "Me" after every description.    
To myself, I check my strengths    
and my heart's condition.    
I collect the tumors of turmoil    
that have threatened me    
with horrible endings,    
and I drop them under the table.    
Scraps. Forfeitures for the bear    
if it wants to return some year.    
Because I can't predict every detail    
of our coming story.    
     
I can. I do.    
See your eyes as circus tents.    
I don't want to be just audience anymore.    
We've whipped our words around    
each other, goading towards    
a triumphant finale.    
Of when that blouse looks good    
on the floor.    
     
~~~    
Written by Styxian
Published | Edited 3rd May 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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