You'll be up there now, somewhere,
Probably sleeping, dreaming about
Whatever it is that occupies
Your mind in the same way that
You occupy mine.

Something tells me that you
Won't give me a thought,
Because when you see me
You see the same boy,
The same "project" for you
To assimilate into your world.

My mind, meanwhile, is filled
With speculation about how
You'll be different from when
I last saw you, and the way in
Which you'll be new to me.

When I go upstairs I always
Hesitate outside your door,
Wondering who will be waiting
On the other side this time,
And who it's been these past
Several days who has looked at me
With that expression I can never quite
Interpret and occasionally stolen
The odd hour of sleep from me.

And as I edge towards the haziness
Of wakeful slumber, a recently
Rediscovered lullaby echoes quietly
In my head, making me wonder
If I am as young as you seem to
Be convinced, or if the number of
My years disguises the person that
You seem to want to stop me from being.

While it may be true that I hoped
You would be someone else, I never
Expected it, and I will never try
To mould you to fit my world.
Maybe someday I will find her
Waiting behind your door.

08/13/2003

Posted on 08/13/2003
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince