We were alone
In that crowd of two
We hungered but
Of course never
Ate
Together.
You were too young
To know that going
Against your vows
Would’ve been only
A momentary pleasure.
In that small town –
Small enough
For hungrier eyes to see
And waggier tongues to wag.
I wore the trinket ring
You gave me from the gum
Machine for years beyond
Would like to find it again
As if its restoration
Could blow life back
Into my now
Deflated old days.
For long years I passed
Biker chicks and wondered
If you’d become one
In your anger and defiance.
I starved myself
Inside your wishes
But even the shrunken
Me was no able
Opponent to
Your dreams
There are those that know
More of you
Than I ever could
But what I know is
Specific enough
For its own history
Which is stored in all its
excruciating detail
in the confines
of a distant memory
-jim hill (11-27-09)
2 comments:
i adore your writing, it makes me want the type of romance that leaves one weeping and empty, worse for wear, but still frenzied and wide eyed in the happy accident and leavings of it all.
what a nice thing to say. and your writing is potent and leaves me gut-shot, wounded.
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