it's a strange thing.

 

 it's a strange thing.

if she dances like that tomorrow

-        you will love her

yes, you will

and I will reside on a patchwork

floor with a bowl of grapes

and a vase of daises

rolling my eyes in the tragedy of it all

if she leaves you be, for days

-        you will want me

yes, you will

& I will run far-far away

over the yellow washed field

but only for you to catch me

& jitter out your terrible excuses

like an alley cat to the fair maiden

if she calls on you, after that

and you love her

(if you do)

- I will wonder why again

cry too hard to let you know

& then I’ll let you go

and if you never understand

& come around to ask me why

i’ll only sigh & smile

as a wrench drives in my side

& tell you love never works this way

& set out to find a life of days

- for always, without you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

photo & poem copyrighted by me, amy fairweather.