after the holiday

November 25, 2007

i didn’t cry when he left this time
i think it was because of the way the light was on his face,
cold November afternoon, the way it
swept its fingers across his face and
filled his eyes
pressing my cold cold cheek to his
and just breathing
in and out
the way it’s meant to be
my heart, it hurt a little bit but
i knew – only three and a half weeks this time
(which is so much better than seven)
it’s never really easy, you know
i don’t think it ever will be but i’m
learning how to see the bright side
really, learning that we’ll be there again
so there’s no reason to cry,
it’s just another leg in a long
long race.
and last night, lying on my bed
holding all of him against all of me,
stroking his hair so lightly, my
made of glass boy i’m afraid to break
kissing his forehead
i can see someday when
we’ll fall asleep like that every night
the thought of that makes
the nights alone worth it.
thinking of him far away on the train,
almost back to school.  maybe he’s sleeping,
mouth open just a little bit
cities flashing past as he dozes on a windowpane
i like to imagine myself there next to him,
reading a book or maybe just
sleeping myself.
it’s not so out there, you know,
thinking of what things will be like in four years
(three and a half years, now)
it doesn’t feel like wishful thinking –
it just feels like what comes next.
i haven’t done any work this weekend;
this week will be awful
and the week after will be awful
and the week after will be awful
but that’s three awful weeks gone
before i get to have six beautiful weeks here
when i can wake up in the morning to his phone call
and say, “I’ll see you later,” and
really mean it.


One Response to “after the holiday”

  1. hasn’tsnowed yet. too bad. write me a poem

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