Dry Up

It’s been years
since a woman
has told me
she loves me

but in my dreams
it’s still
the right fork
in the road.

Ever since
I can remember
the person sitting
in the other rocking chair

as we sway our way
through the afternoon

has been a woman
with matching lines.

I want to dry up
with her hand in mine.

For that matter
it’s been awhile
since a man
has told me
he loves me

and you’d have to
go back pretty far
I fear

to find a
birthday turn
that doesn’t
have me in tears.

They’re not sad.
I’m not angry.

I’m just trying to
dry up
more quickly.

I say I won’t settle
but it’s all that I do.
I’ll run myself through
a long line of wasted time.

The things you say
will annoy me and

the way you move
will confuse me and

the promises you
won’t even keep
will just
turn me into
a puddle again.

But in my dreams
I find myself sitting
in a worn rocking chair
of two.

I sway my way
through the afternoon.

Reach across and
draw a line

from hers to mine.


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