Cliche

Be Careful What You Wish For (A Cliché)

It’d be easy if I could write about you

your blonde twisted hairs tied—pulled up and never cut—24 years of split ends

                                                Dare you succumb to a virgin cut? You did with him.

Easier to write to you

Get lost in our written world of deceiving ink—

Every time I hear this song I think about dancing with you. I think it's bc we both, to a specific extent, hate our lives equally and there's a particular dance that matches that level of hate.

I think I’m lost in dancing with you—in some imaginary wedding

where I wipe a tear from your face and you tell me I always knew it was you.

I can’t listen to music without seeing you—

                        you harmonize with the high octave coos of Bon Iver.

I want to write about war—how it tears up the mind—how it destroys the ability to hear fireworks             without hearing Marv scream tell my mom I love her.

                        But those screams faintly die and I—

picture

 your sea green eyes exploding into Sinatra blue

just before you burst into your cackling laugh.

                        Oh, damn your eyes

Keep me on your long line                 I’ll keep tugging from the backburner