We walked.
You wore my chapeau
And pink
And leaned
To see something closer
And I did, too.
And it was art.
Today I walked
Alone
Where you were pink
And wore my deck.
(I’d forgotten
you were talking
to someone else
on the phone).*
And I wondered
Why we couldn’t
Walk that way
Again.
*Added the next day when I saw the photo of her wearing my hat … and talking on the phone.
Hearing her cry at/
the end turned it into a/
horrific event.
Now that I have left/
my tracks all over your phone,/
I just feel foolish.
I was glad about/
potential passionate phone/
talk, but now I’m scared.
Holding my phone while/
waiting for answers never/
makes them come faster.
I’m still alone when/
she won’t phone from Salt Lake or /
San Antone. I moan.
OR
Why moan?
Gazing at my phone./
Waiting for a call that won’t /come.
I think she’s done.
Birds singing sound like /
my phone ringing. I must change/
tones because they won’t.
Why does my phone ring?/
It’s midnight! I’m a late night/
verbal booty call.
I wasn’t going to publish this one because it’s too painful … but a friend said I should.
I ask if we can talk.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.
I’m sorry, I’m busy.
Not tonight, I’m tired. I’m sorry.
Not tonight, I’m thinking. I’m sorry.
Not now, maybe later. I’m sorry.
I’m at my folks. I’m sorry.
I can’t tonight. I’m sorry.
I don’t feel like talking. I’m sorry.
I’m caving. I’m sorry.
Now is not a good time. I’m sorry.
I’m busy. I’m sorry.
I’m doing something else. I’m sorry.
I’m tired. I’m sorry.
I’m sore. I’m sorry.
I’m sleepy. I’m sorry.
I’m busy or I would. I’m sorry.
I’m not feeling up to it.
I’m not in the mood.”
What everyone tells me she’s saying is:
“Thanks, but no thanks … sorry!” Or
“I’m not that into you.”
I just wanted to talk. I’m sorry.