New things,
New emotions,
New places,
New,
New, new.
So old to you.
All I'd wanted to do,
You'd already done.
No magic in flipping through
the pages of last year's edition.
I just hadn't read it yet,
No spoilers babe,
Please,
don't ruin it.
But you did ruin it,
somehow,
The way that lovers always do.
Without words,
But even more brutal.
You laid beside me,
As our bodies burned in the tumult.
You stared at me glumly,
As I hooted and hollered,
Energized and convulsant at the pleasures
Of the newness of each moment.
Not knowing that I was being seen through.
A placeholder.
A parenthesis.
An interesting afterthought.
That I was the means to an end.
The work-around.
That you were thinking of him.
And the countless pages ya'll had written.
But, I eventually got wise.
I saw the blank awe
For augurs:
The listless staring,
Limp kisses,
Lonesome nights
Too easily won fights.
It was written.
Written like this poem
And
Meant to be erased.
I want you to always think of me
When you think about what you've done.
And I hope it makes you smile.
I've still got the dog, bitch.