i waited a long, long time
to sip the wine from the tinted mug
and understand the complexities of cold nights
and i ask myself why it always feels
a little bit warmer when it snows.

i stick my toe out of the hole
in my sock and wiggled it around
before i hide it back into my shoe and
i cross my legs on that broken couch
and catch your eye and you look away
immediately and i am suddenly
all too aware of the arm that is around me
and the hand resting on my thigh.

we are trying to make copacetic situations
out of falsities and we are too tired to
refute reality in adequate ways.

we should both probable leave
but we'll end up staying with respective others
folding our hands and rolling our eyes.

and i wish you would just tell me that it hurts you.
because i know it does and hearing the words in your voice
would validate the cause of such unvented frustrations
and stifled words that come out only in most uninhibited projections.
you hate him, i know you do, he is not you
and that's the only thing you refrain from saying.

and so i move in closer to the arm that
wraps itself around me and i do not look at the face
that isn't yours just nuzzle my face into the chest
that does not smell like you and when the lights are off
and he is unbuttoning the shirt with the fingers that
do not belong to your hands i can only keep my eyes closed
and tell myself that i am moving on.

11/03/2006

Posted on 11/04/2006
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