it’s hard to carry dead weight, but
i’ve been doing it for years
this ebbing relic, growing heavy
too cumbersome, your souvenir

still, always the optimist, i
feign blindness, not to see
you glancing back, over your shoulder
instead of looking here, at me

gentle tugging gone, these
heartstrings tattered, all affray
you keep Her, white-knuckled
in your grip, oblivious to such decay

yeah, i know, i know…
i know that i
“don’t know”

oh, but you, you don’t know
either, how I close my eyes
and see Her

sure, She’s gone —
but She’s not going

anywhere.