Wondering
It’s 2:15am
and I’m wondering -
What time is it where you are?
Is it lunchtime yet;
or maybe breakfast?
Is the sun shining?
Can you still hear the sound of him singing sweetly at deafening decibels?
No, really...
I’m wondering if you slept well in the frigid temps
with snowbanks
wafted against the glass of your hotel room;
two double beds across the world.
Reindeer.
I’m wondering if you’ll see reindeer,
or caribou,
or whatever.
I’m wondering if you’ll wear the scarf I bought you,
if you’ll remember to charge it, and if that will make all the difference.
No, really...
Wondering;
if the ChapStick I gave you is occlusive enough
to block out the sensory stain of my lips so that
you may more easily forget
all I ever gave and
all you ever felt and
all we ever built
in days that somehow seem to number both
zero and infinity,
never and forever,
and if that aids in the falling out of
cracks in your skin
mended by the salve that I wrapped
...in a brown a paper package tied up with string
for you to open on a day
determined to break us
well before we had
ever
even
met
or whatever.
Last night, I dreamt you
grabbed me by the small of my back,
kissed me like you meant it
and I told you in response
that it wasn’t ok
for you to come back
like you hadn’t ever packed your bags long before this trip,
like you hadn’t misplaced my majesty,
or forgotten stepping in shit,
or forsaken promises
made under canopies of striped cotton
and ancient tassels
atop autumn leaves.
No, really…
Like you hadn’t
opened the door,
and in many languages said
“I just don’t know,
so you’re free to go”
to me.
It was all a dream of course.
But I don’t put it past reality
or you
to change your mind
again
to likely only change it
again
because the truth is
it’s not that you don’t know me anymore.
It’s that you’ve never known you.
How can any two
build a map from point Me
to the Z of Nowhere?
I’m wondering
If you miss me.
No, really…
And not in like a sad,
weepy way.
I am
Just
Wondering.
I’m wondering if I miss you
or if
you’re just habit.