You don't sound special.
My name doesn't drip off your tongue
like a rolling wave. Like honey
or a dew drop off a leaf. You sound
like home and smell like rolling
tobacco. Your sallow skin turns
olive on the bog when you sleep in
instead of waking up at six am
to beat the sun. There's always oil
in your fingernails from the garage
since you dropped out of school -
but now you're going places.
Despite what everyone said and despite
the fact you have to ask me how to
spell some things and despite
your excessive drinking and even though
you left me I hope you're coming back.