Tuesday, December 21, 2010

a loan.

beats and rattles draped in thin layers of ice.
call back for returns.
call ahead if you like.
screened calls like answering telephones in the 50s.
because we crave to be found alone.
we were silly that night. foolish clumsy children.
and i should have known better, running in the cold as though immune.
but, forgot on purpose.
you, building your arsenal of ammunition.
it's whatever you make of it.
you invited me to sit here.
i declined.
and in the middle of the night it got cloudy.
and i don't remember anything i'm sure, i'm not sure why.
no one watched the pot.
just the water exploding into a boil.
the pinnacle of resistance stated calmly in your eyes.
i remember the change. the slow merge to something else. from fondness to strength.
but a mean strength. a brute strength. no longer wooing just possessing.
and in that moment where i should've been set alight, i went out.
i checked out.
the pulse shifted… the vacant sign illuminated.
you never knew the difference.
i'd forgotten him.
i'd forgotten you.
i was alone.
i left you there with my body and conversations and hovered above the shame of your tears falling all around that place.
left you to cover up what wouldn't be undone.
on my heel turned and breathed a sigh of relief.
and sang a knowing song that you'd hear when all alone.
you've lost.
i'm gone.
i'm gone.
i'm gone.

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