I pick up my
phone and try to write
a real good poem, something
with substance &
all I can think about is the girl
who lives across town,
who stays in her room,
who proclaimed that she could sleep in my hugs forever,
who told me that we were going to be best friends for a long time--
& if she couldn't stand all the "other guys" then she'd marry me
at 40 years old,
who doesn't talk much anymore,
who was ***** as a child,
who cried on my shoulder--arm around mine--
and how much I love her
but can't because she's afraid
of males.
I don't think she sees how much it
kills me to know she suffers
and I'm not able to build a time machine.