Poems for No One

Breathing

How many times do I have to tell myself

to move on before I'll listen? How many times

will I say I love her and I miss her

before the words taste stale?

She represented to me a final victory

over fear. I loved her violently,

and for one perfect moment, I knew

that she loved me, too. I knew

that she shared my pain and longing

and aching, and in that moment,

that was all I needed. I was alive.

I was breathing.

We were breathing.

Perfect

I meant everything I said

when I told you I love you a little

after you said I'm glad you're here

and squeezed my hand like a prayer.

I know it surprised you when you said

Can I kiss you? and my stunned,

whispered Yeah met your ears

in the dark.

I meant everything I said,

and much that I didn't say,

in those hours that redefined right

and wrong and sin and love.

I meant it when I kissed your hand

and ran my fingers through your hair

before I left the room. I meant it

when I tiptoed back and found you

there again. I meant it when I told you

You're one of the most beautiful things

I've ever seen. And I believed you when

you said I think you're perfect.

At Your New Year’s Party

I nearly threw up trying to choke down the shot

of whiskey, which was more like three shots,

that you handed me two minutes before midnight.

My husband gave you the side-eye,

but you said She can handle it.

Midnight struck.

You kissed your husband, and then walked

around the room and kissed everyone,

but I think you only did that so you could kiss me.

Shot glasses hit each other and then the table,

while you and I spent the first seconds

of the arbitrary unit of time pretending

this was nothing new.