the way you touch my thigh you stand there, now susceptible and exposed—struggling, wishing you could understand or find a way to remember what it felt like when we both stood there bluntly working off each other not embarrassed not ourselves, together vulnerably learning to move around each other without freedom to fully comprehend the story that sat waiting somewhere. I did my background check I read the details I knew what you wanted, needed from my not self but you left me alone without the giving or taking that I needed, wanted... just giving them myself. you stand there, still, trying to see what it is that you wanted when we were there together that Friday when we were there together at all you are unsure of yourself again and though I feed you over and over again you can’t seem to drop the dark picket fence you built last week when I said hi to you and you just smiled at the ground. Sometimes I want you to just sit down and give me a real smile, with your eyes, you know? but I have realized that we no longer can use that word give because you left it behind with the words you didn’t care to learn for me you say you’ll try, as we sit here now, in the narrow hallway wet from the snow on people’s boots that carelessly drip and soak the ground where we rest our shaken sides. you grab my upper leg as you try to suck the words out of me looking up at my forehead searching for the reasons why you used to give a damn.
PS: the magic page that will always jump you to the latest poem is "http://www.saintannsny.org/depart/computer/poems.html"