I could wait at this bus stop forever.

I’ve given the drivers names their mother’s didn’t.

Raymond is itching to speak to me.

Afraid that I’d have to admit the obvious, I must move from this spot.

Love keeps me locked down.

Refusing the notion of being stood-up by the girl I love.

I remember every strand of hair she moved that restrained her hazel eyes

With every  wisp I withered. Paralyzed by hindsight.

The night terrors where she would grit her teeth

I’d pull her closer into me.

Did her thing in the kitchen, whip a dish in a beat

If I cleared my plate she’d give me her sweets.

When she spoke I listened

When she glared I listened.

Now all I hear is the clamor of New York City.

We were supposed to be leaving this place behind.

On the way to the country

On our way to spawning the children we talked about

She’d dress our baby girl in matching fits

I would play in the dirt with the boys.

I had kept count of the names she came up with

Raymond was her favorite.

I can recount only two occasions she shed tears

In a room where she became an aunt, the other after watching The Notebook.

Counted one-hundred clouds that passed me by

I hung on to one-hundred thoughts that made me stay.

In all my lucid memories, not once has she let me down.

She stayed true through all my nervous ticks and extraneous calculations.

Ashamed to admit I’d been counting the windows on the skyscraper in front of me

Maybe she had made calculations of her own

That she’d be better off if I was no longer a variable in her equation

She’d cite my divided attention as the reason.

Thoughts of her multiplying with another

A tragedy that would make Shakespeare weep.

Caught in a trance of jealousy, love, and uncertainty

 

Just waiting for her to rescue me.

 

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