“This love is forever,” you crooned out of the blue
And when I asked jokingly if that was a hook from a song,
A silent pause hung between us, a storm cloud waiting to burst.
Instead of mumbling “I, uh…what?” I crossed my fingers and parroted you,
While my inner somebody whispered:
Not if you cheat or do Meth or punch me.
Not if you drain my spirit or savings.
Not if you wanted it in a worshippy way or on demand.
Not if you try to boss me.
No, no, no, no.
People change, things fall apart.
You beamed at me like I was covered with pearls
And I wanted another kiss.
You said it again in the shower the next morning
But from behind me you didn’t see my thousand-mile stare.
I told you I sucked at call-and-response,
And explaining how I have to come to things on my own,
And reliably following someone else’s treasure map.
Three divorces and a hundred lemons between us,
The most intimate thing I can do is tell the truth,
I love you now.
Unrest and judgment crash into my quiet honesty.
I watch day turn to night in your eyes, synchronicity whirr in reverse.
I watch you weaponize your heart against things once cherished
My independent, free-thinking, quirky ways,
And my habit of tenderly calling you by your last name like it’s your first name.
All of it is treason now.
We fall out of step.
You micromarketing a wish, me rooted in the moment.
I feel vulnerable and falsely sentenced because love now is more than enough,
but I cannot turn away.
I soak up your sour grumblings,
knowing I still can’t casually give you what you want.
You boycott me recklessly for weeks.
Zero calls, visits, texts or emails.
I miss you without reaching for you,
Listen to Tina Turner songs and rain.
Then you phone to talk about it/call me a cold fish/pout.
All of it, I hear from Venus, since the enormity of my heart magically lit yours.
You said so.
I want to see you, so you can remember my love