he still says it
just like he used to
a hiccup of agreement
just like he did
before he got out of her car
and began to run away
drunk and full of his birthday
steak dinner and champagne
and this other guy
whose name she called him
the morning after he got back
from texas in her halfsleep
he still says it
just the way he would
to let her know he was still
listening to her in the dark there
next to her twitching body
wondering if he could touch her
drifting in and out of coffee
sleep mouth whiskey head
he still says it
just the same way she remembers
but he says it from hundreds
of miles away
in a town she doesn't know
they talk about meeting halfway
playing scrabble
and as they hang up their phones
and the lines click dead
at the midpoint between their lives
the last words they said
add up to some final score
that neither of them are keeping
No comments:
Post a Comment