POEM - N Locust St

I’m not the person I was 20 years ago;

that guy would have told you within five minutes

of meeting you that fate was knocking loudly

for us both

—that we shouldn’t sit in silent agony,

the way we’ve done for half a decade,

waiting on that pipe dream

of perfect timing

You’d have been his everything,

or he’d have relegated you to

some quirky corner of possibilities

which didn’t make enough sense

to matter

Wholeheartedly, I can say that I miss that me,

but there was a reason he changed,

and I’m looking at her;

she’s looking back

She’s you, and every treasured moment

I swore to myself I’d remember so fondly

now means nothing

This is what that other me couldn’t have fathomed;

that the reality of a singular someone

might matter more than any large number

of others

I’m old enough now to have foreseen

the incoming emptiness to which

we all belong

But you and I were the same part

of what first gave rise to this something

I can’t explain it, so please don’t ask

Just know that I am at peace with

the desperate war between us

The very sound of your name feels like

home to me, and I need to drown

in the deep truth of it

I need to turn a corner which leads

in your direct direction, and trust

that I will be welcome to die in your bed

for the simple act of having knocked

on your dark-wood door

So, now may be a good time to begin

preparing for unannounced company