Thursday, May 19, 2011

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.

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