What’s left of us
We’d best discuss
The way that lust
And seeds of trust
Have circled thus
And turned to dust
And such disgust
We simply must

Decide to speak
Of all the weeks
We used to seek
So tongue in cheek
But often meek
And thought unique
Now gone oblique
Some old antique

We should extend
A moment then
If not as friends
Or means to ends
At least to mend
These could have beens
And make amends
By voice or pen

So here, I’ll start
And just impart
This paintless art
With painful hearts
And break the rhyme
As, so it seems,
I’m so inclined
To do for you
And always will
With every line
For though it’s true
You’re never mine
Just know, for you,
There’s no “until”
There never was
And I don’t mind
How long you take
I’m here, I’ll wait
So take your time
And clear your plate
And tell me when
A time and place
Through metaphors
Or through the space
Between the words
On broken signs
A knowing look
Or happy face

I’ll wait and hold
With coffee cold
Those stories old
I left untold
Like hidden gold
And there unfold
Whate’er you ask or need to know
Let’s meet in paths of heavy snow

Or fields of rust
And desert sand
While wearing cuts
On hearts and hands
Let’s sit or stand
And make it thus
For, dear, what’s left of us
We’d best discuss


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