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Trip-A 16h
Our eyes misaligned across two screens
Whispering sweet love sonnets
"Huh? Your microphone is muted." you cooed
I checked my audio settings
You said to me the deepest thought your heart ever spoke
"Can you repeat that, you froze for a bit?" I whispered back
Our hearts buffered as one
A humorous poem about the trials of dating via zoom during  Covid quarantine.
Any-Her has a name. Had.
It was the title of a travel book.

Any-Her had a
name tattooed along her spine.
You search and read her
up, down, sideways.
She was a work of fiction,
a ghost story. You read her
under the covers
by the beam of a flashlight
against your chin for dramatic
effect. In a flash, she's gone.
You flick the lights out and sleep.

Any-Her is a dream.
Was. Bright eyes, pierced
lips. You'd recognize her anywhere,
in the travel aisle of a library.
She had a name. Her signature
was jotted in the margin
of a catalogue card. She was
a name on a list of borrowers.
You'd wait your turn, check her out.

Any-Her is a number.
She writes it down on
the back of a bar napkin.
You skim details,
fill in blanks.

Any-Her is easily
(mis) read, goes by
an alias based on the
date. You name her
after obscure holidays,
like, "Winter Solstice '20",
or, "Funny Valentine '21".
You celebrate her coming,
the -where and the
-when. The -who is
irrelevant, the -how,
irrational. And -why
is what you keep asking
the next morning
while waiting for a reply
that never comes.

Any-Her is a city
far from home,
you decide. You don't
remember the name.
Don't need to.
You're just one
of -any, passing
The Dating Life of the Insane

If I like her,
I will ask her,
and she, will tell me no.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2020
Jim is the author of two books of poetry “Musing On The Cricket Game of Life Part 1 1/2” and “An Extravagant Way of Saying Nothing “ both available on Amazon
I have dated a workaholic
Who cheated on me with his job
I didn’t give a crap about how I felt
Thanking I was just some stupid Muslim woman

I have dated a Buddhist
Who threaten to attack me
If I do not show or send nudes
Thinking I was some stupid Muslim woman

I have dated many guys many careers
And he walks of life
Who cheated on me or bullied me into submission
What do you think they can do so
Hang on some stupid Muslim woman

What if I’m Muslim
You cannot hurt me
I did not treat you the greatest,
But you did not treat me right too.
And since we heartbreakingly departed,
In other men, I am searching for you.
You were my first real love,
I adored you so incredibly much.
But now you forever hate me,
And I've forgotten your touch.
We will never again meet,
Our love is in the past.
Though, there was a time when
We thought it would surely last.
After you left me broken,
On Valentine's Day,
I fell into a dangerous spiral.
And lost myself along the way.
I have seen eight since our love fell,
In roughly three hundred days.
And in that time frame,
I thought I had parted ways.
But it seems you still cross my mind,
And I will sometimes check up on you.
I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes
I miss the old love we'd once had too.
But might I add as well; listen to my voice.
In every situation, I was always his last choice.
People that had bullied me, he cared for more.
To this boy, standing up for me was a chore.
He cared more for himself than for me,
He cared about his image, so much more.
And when he told me he never loved me,
I fell down, heart in agony, tears on the floor.
He tried leaving, I didn't want him to go.
And so, I tried hurting myself in front of him,
All as a means of telling him no.
It worked, he stayed a little as he did care,
Although it was not in the way I wanted;
And with you, I will now share.
Valentine's Day, he said he never loved me,
After nine months, he expressed the kind of love.
It was not the love I had; the unconditional kind.
And it was not the other either, from up above.
It was the sort of love that had him blind.
What I'm saying is that he felt nothing but lust.
His feelings for me had faded away;
And that is why I ended it that day.
I told him, if you walk out the door, we are done.
Oh my, you should have seen him run.
And left alone, I screamed.
You would have thought I'd been stabbed!
To my chest, my hand held and grabbed.
My heart was exploding, love flying away.
I screamed out, but I wouldn't see him today.  
Or ever again.
And now I keep trying to find you,
Somehow, in other men.
Po Feb 16
what is it like to have a "relationship goals" relationship?  
the girl who is laying in her bed; wiping her tears with the stretched out hoodie sleeve wonders that exact question

yet so does the popular girl who is dating the varsity hockey captain; her insta is filled with cute pics of their relationships; but the skinny tube top is covering hickeys on her chest that she doesn't even remember receiving

the girl who has never had their first kiss, or has even held a boys hand before wonders that exact question. Her research suggests that a "relationship goals" relationship is when you go on cute dates, have his hoodie, surprise him at his games and practices  

but the girl who isn't even noticed has the real "relationship goals" relationship. She nerds out on math while he reads off the periodic table. Nothing gets in their way because communication is their key

are "relationship goals" invisible to the people who seeks them?
Beanie Feb 8
There is smoke in my lungs
And a spark in your eye.
I don’t know if you know
How wonderful it is to stare at the sky
And hold your hand in mine.
I exhale slowly and sigh,
So you turn to me, quiet,
And ask me why?
Because I love you, my sweet.
I love you with a love that will not die.
#25 in the collection of Poems You Don't Know Are About You
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