a wise young man once shared with me a proverb “a fox which chases two rabbits will catch neither.” I’ve been calling you a fox ever since the weather got too cold for baby blue forget-me-nots nothing good ever happened in a month like May but you were my rusty fox I couldn’t catch you that rainy day or that frosty night, my love for fear of crushing inadvertently an annual bloom.
perhaps you were doomed to be perennial but you followed me into libraries and around street corners I followed you down the alleyways of our city and through doors; that only ever led to too little, too late for which I am truly sorry.
just, please. this time believe me when I say I gave everything to you I could I crossed so many lines too many but here I stood silently shouting at you to love me, to need me, to adore me again - shortly before the weight of the futility of so much past came to light.
you are the poetry in my poems you brought the fire, and I brought the fuel we were almost an experimental pair - but you were the wind and I was driftwood splinters of me scattered all across the bay and when you turned, you forgot how to whistle the tune we always had. and I lost sight of you when the waters stilled too much for me to be able to feel you there and be carried along with you.
it is said that “a fox which chases two rabbits will catch neither.” but I am done with chasing rabbits and watering tulip and muscari bulbs in the October springtime I am willing to put the image of my sun-kissed fox behind me.
I want September sunshine I need red sunset I’ll pursue a crashing wave and fly into the face of a glowing inferno because I want you I need you I will let you love me I will let you love me
and as I rip and tear these lifelines to shreds as I dissect my heart in an attempt to figure out where it all went wrong I’ll keep looking for you between paving stones I’ll keep searching for you inside cracks in brick walls I’ll keep seeking you in whatever way I know how
praying that since something so remarkable does not allow itself to be forgotten it also does not allow itself to become part of the past.
perhaps it was foretold months in advance maybe my snapdragon self is now part of his past but you have not left my prayers since you chose to leave and I still cannot bring myself to stop loving you.