and sometimes it's nice to let go
......start again, know its been months
you've lasted longer than most in
me....longer than my poet, may be
longer than my green eyed monster
who held my hand on the bus and
asked for just once more as we stared
ahead and left each other in the same
place we had met. he's in florida some
where. his son a man now, his wife
his ex....had i stayed the end would
have remained the same. he was too
tall, his nose to small, his hands too
big: very disproportionate: like our time
i tend to think - had he even tried i may have stayed
then i think of you, hazel eyes & all
it's all for not - the calls, the gifts, the space
we maintain. i left it - in hopes you may
one day find me - my poet always knows
where i am - i cannot escape him. but perhaps
perhaps
i can you