It is dark and damp
in the alley under your window.
My dreaming is so quiet,
and my body so still,
that a man relieved himself,
unaware, on my paradise.
You may be sleeping,
or reading,
or gaming,
but my thoughts aren't on the you above.
I'm sometime else.
At this point, in this place,
we start and end journeys.
I see us
walking hand in hand
that first night
and all the nights.
I see me
bringing soup when you are sick,
scribbling love letters in the cold,
hiding gifts before you appear,
and yes...crying here too.
I see you
stopping and turning at your doorstep,
smiling and brushing your lips on my forehead,
and a thousand times I am whole.
Please don't come outside.
Don't put down your iPad
or walk downstairs.
I won't be able to explain my tears,
and
*I never want to make the memory
of your not wanting me here.
This experience deserved a better poem
