I made too many excuses
to be near
you must've noticed, and then
the three nights we laughed.
I met you, you in love
with my imagery
and you, feminine, translucent,
a secret box to unlock.
I wouldn't've thought you would
inspire me to epic poetry
So ordinary, us sleeping with ghosts
yet you gave me the feeling of feeling right.
How many movies did we
pretend to watch
on my couch as I breathed
desire on your accepting neck?
Later, we would push
to the floor, out of respect
for your roommate.
That morning, the night after
I watched you dream,
you asked me that peculiar question
the one I should have said yes to.
Instead I lied, and you shrugged
and a month later
came the planned obsolescence, when
condoms and November ran out.
Now you're mere feet yet miles away
on closed circuit TV
I watch your nimble fingers
and your broken heart push buttons.
Just before the end, an omen appeared
a red ragged scar
on top of my right foot
from the dull carpet of your bedroom.
It's still there, long after
November and goodbyes
but mom (never wrong) told me it,
like all things, will fade in time.
And what I miss the most
besides the sex
is when I would come to your door
and you thanked God for my arrival.
I make too many excuses
to be far away
but on these Wednesdays
I still come to see you in secret.