By the time this reaches you
I’ll be gone
with what remained
that perennial myth
dredged from the bottom
of horrible truths
that sedimentary sentiment
still stuck in my throat
as I try to say goodbye


Application Expiration

It was never enough
and we knew it
a collaborative dismissal
of what got in our way
the distance that defined
what wound up as us

Most of a year
you’d been silent
and I started to half-hope
that some manner of happy
was keeping you away
then this

I tried getting mad
failing first with you
then myself
who manufactures prudence
from cowardice
love from fear

There was no anger
just regret
remembered from first loves
failures to articulate
in a timely manner
what was obvious for all

Three days I deleted words
freshly written
enough to fill a letter
with singular sentiment
adorned in petty lies

If this reaches you
then I’m sorry
that I am still the me
who wishes for you
while leaving boxes blank
application unfullfilled

Kid Gloves

I was better
for a while
that space of time
when I could reliably recall
just how long it had been

Last I held her hand
was in a light rain
a season of light rain
cold enough for gloves
when we were apart

Only the second time
I’d been selfish enough
to reach out
a lacing of fingers
a shape I forget

That charity of touch
is slipping away
confidence tucked
into outgrown vessels
waiting once more for spring

A Modern Day Dirge

He writes only love songs
tepid trifles adored
one note held on too long
length eclipsing the score
she sings only love songs
her heart bearing the brunt
the stings of her own wrongs
make the words an affront
they make only love songs
synthing meaning anew
his legacy prolonged
as she bids him adieu
one love that these two wore
a rebirth in three four