Our Fabled Relationship

She's the tortoise. I'm the hare.
We've been apart for several days,
And, through them, she has
Tended to the other aspects of her
Life, her boyfriend and her friends
And school. It's doubtful she has
Thought of me, and, when she
Plods to work tomorrow, she'll
Arrive assuming how we've
Been remains unchanged. I'm
Not sure how she thinks we've
Been. She likes me out of sight,
But near. She'll want me to
Slip close to her, and she will
Tell me things she seems to
Keep from everybody else.
In some strange fashion, she
Must have me, and she knows
That I'll be there.

I've done nothing but think of her.
I dread the times when we're apart.
For just a day after we meet,
I feel content, and then I start to
Grieve and rage and doubt and
Curse. She doesn't want me
Anymore. She never did. I've
Been a fool. She'll turn away next
Time we meet, and tell me not to
Bother her, and, when I go to bed
Tonight, I'll toss. I will be terrified,
But, somehow, I will calm myself,
And, when I see her in the morning,
I will melt. I always do, and I, the
Hare who's run so far, will catch
Up with my plodding tortoise,
And I'll find, as she'd assumed,
We are as we have been.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2015-08-27 at 23:33

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