I carried you
like a stone in my pocket,
like luck,
a photo,
a leaving.
I’m not looking to forget.
Forgetfulness would erase me too.
While my mind reaches for something solid,
my body already knows:
in my shoulder,
when I sit in the same old spot.
In the morning,
when I search for your scent.
When they don’t hear me,
they think I’m fine.
I just don’t break pain
into sentences.
I can almost see
one good day
in this cursed line of bad ones.
Just one,
in a life that shows no mercy.
I know
misery isn’t forever.
And I know
someone hears my prayer.
I’ll love you
as long as I live.
Maybe I’ll listen to you
and let someone in,
someone not you,
but with that same damn smile,
those same eyes.
Maybe I’ll allow myself
to love again,
just once more,
like I loved you,
and still remain true,
still remain worthy
of being called a man.
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