Your Poem

It couldn't go forward any other way.

She would wait for him.

Remnants of someone else's flesh caught between his teeth and she would wait for him.

His smile, the cannibal's curled trophy she would've eagerly etched her name onto was now drenched in newer conquests, and she, only going through the motions of moving on went to dinner with cheap imitations.

After nights out with him,

She burned away mornings plucking anonymous petals to ask nameless blooms the only two questions that mattered when it comes to him.

You only get honest answers from strangers.

Hushed desires intimidated her,

tamed into stories of them

sitting on coffee house couches

while sipping chilled tea named after her,

resting her hand in his during that movie,

the most beautiful moment in aisle M3 and him discussing green days with her daughter.

These quiet hopes did not keep

the warm imprint of her lips on his when he went away.

He let go of her hand when he waved goodbye.

She wouldn't believe it was gone until the day he told her it found a new home on the cushioned palm of a past acquaintance.

He was building something with this one, slowly.

She wished him well and retreated into memories.

She wouldn't ask the flowers for their fortunes anymore.

The future seemed more appropriately dressed in prayers than their petals.

She wrote him a poem he considered too general for dedication and though not specific in name that poem felt like no one else but him curled up in her fingers.

It reminded her of the first time he held her hand; hot afternoon, sitting in her bed, faining interest in a movie that couldn't compete with his touch.

It also reminded her of the last time he held her hand; cool evening, leaned up against her truck, folding fingers in an attempt to keep him from getting on that plane.

Holding tight was her secret promise to catch him; to wait for him even when she knew it was hopeless to.

She wanted to be sought after, to be kept on the tip of his tongue, to be craved like good news or a wept up like a flower for it's beautiful indifference and honest answers to the only questions that matter...

like yes!

Yes, she loves him

and he loves her not.