Tuesday, February 20, 2007

U missed it

There was a word for what we were
But you missed it
A song, caught fermented, poured but spilled
A table set for a guest who never arrived
A band too big for their own britches
Lost in acres of stolen sounds that were given
But never returned to their listeners

Somehow being you always meant
That the meaning of me, on the tip of the tongue
Must’ve slipped my mind

There was a beauty in who I was
But you missed it
Too busy looking at the motivations of
All those other people who wondered
What it was, and who I was
That you could no longer see

There was a sweetness for what we had
But you missed it
The honey mouthed
tingling fizzy pink lemonade kiss of naked
The decadent deliciousness of our richness that
Somehow had become bitter rote
When my footsteps fell in perfect alignment with yours
As we walked silently across the parking lot
You got in your car, and left
With a sour look
Mad ‘cause you weren’t the cook

Yesterday at
sunrise over the Mojave of the mind
As I sipped on mojito muse
And wrote a poem

I am sure you would have loved
Had you learned
What you were missing

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