The conversation over chocolate and cookies
lead to one confession and another, and
hours later, I was weeding through pictures,
trying to find the one of you that was mentioned
Instead of one, I found three, and I hesitated before
confronting your face. You were smiling.
Either because of the wine held in your hand or true happiness—
it was never easy to decipher
I never truly loved you, but still the frayed edges of
our past continues to fray, and no patch can hide
the shirred and dangling threads of scattershot
endings sorely skimmed and snipped
One day perhaps we’ll meet again and be able to
explain why we were the way we were at 22,
and maybe I will stop thinking I see you on the streets
sometimes, my eyes lingering and my breath stopping
Maybe one day we will find each other, and finally
it will be enough to just talk about what went wrong
Written: 10/17/09
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