Because our two lives
are of different orbits.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say
I wanted to see you again.
Sometimes concealing the truth
is as bad as lying.
But if I could be anywhere,
I’d be in London,
or Paris. Alone.
I’ll have to pay off student loans
before I can afford a plane ticket
to Europe. I don’t think I’d say
goodbye to you before I’d leave.
Maybe I’d leave you my orange sweatshirt,
just because you won’t be able to wear it.
Maybe I’d leave you with the book
I made out of every poem
I’ve written about you.
Maybe I’d try to meet you beforehand,
and leave you with a word spoken out loud,
because you may not miss the sound of my voice,
or you may not remember it- I don’t
remember yours. And that scares me.
So I’ll leave you with a word,
if you’ll just speak my name.
