One day you’ll see a face that you swear you could never forget
until you meet them again and you realize that their eyes are blue,
You’ll see now in this light that their hair isn’t as dark as you originally thought it was
and that it was much shorter.
You’ll see how their upper lip curls in a way you hadn’t noticed before and
how one corner of their smile is raised slightly higher than the other.
And as you see that space between their front teeth for the first time
that it wasn’t their face that had left an impression on you
it was their soul.
I’m beginning to think that you’re more distinct than I had originally given you credit for.
I don’t know what it is, or was, about you but it sits still sweetly at the tip of my tongue as if you had never used yours to manipulate and reject me.
When I think about all the others my brain hurriedly fills with regret and my face contorts in a cringe that only comes with the kind of mistake that doesn’t change anything but the way you feel about yourself.
And no, you’re not the only one that doesn’t make my stomach wretch, my eyes shut tight, my brain struggle to block the slideshow of mortification, but you are the only one that I had gone so far with and given so much to without hesitation and can still stand firmly on the crumbling foundation of our past.
Sometimes I need to remind myself that wishing I had never been with them and wishing I had never met you are different in the ways that one would have kept me from having the opportunity to make some bad decisions and the other would have saved me from tumbling blindly off the steepest cliff I’d ever stood atop as I fell in love with you.
I’ve spent months
that felt like years
trying so hard
just to sail away from you
and yet you’ve drifted closer
and more often by
then the wreckage
that I knew
so much better than yours.
I’ve sunk ships that were larger,
and had much wider sterns than yours,
but I could never even poke a hole
in your sail
or leave a dent in your hull.
Now, as I ease and trim the sails
you fade to the distance
but as I turn leeward
the wind carries me back to you anyway
and I wonder if it even matters
the direction I face.