For You, the one who can no-longer see me.
(Aka love in the time of ghosts)

But I talked about the groceries
And you said we were out of coffee
Or at least we would soon be
So I write down, “Get coffee”
And you leave before I am done

I don’t walk up to you
Even though I remember
Walking up to you before
Without hesitation
And touching your hair

I heard you on the phone
Talking to your dad
So I ask how he is doing,
You said, “fine”
And I said I was glad, but I don’t really care

I see a picture that reminds me of you
And I smile
For a second thinking of you
But I don’t send it
It might be too much

I go home and do the laundry
I know you are upstairs
And I could go there and be with you
We could joke and I could make you laugh
You would kiss me
And I could hear my name on your lips
And maybe you would even call me ‘sweetheart’ and I would know you love me
I would grab your ass

But I sort colours and whites,
Must wash from
can wait
I might ask later about the car and if it needs oil
Because you don’t call me sweetheart anymore (even though I used to ask) and don’t want me to grab your ass
So I do the laundry

I am waiting at the bus stop
I pick up my phone
To text you
That I miss you
And I don’t know what happened
What I did wrong
And I want to fix it.
To tell you I love you
And you are sexy
But you won’t want to hear it
So I don’t type it
This time, I don’t
Anyway, if you said you loved me, I wouldn’t know what that means

I want to talk
Actually talk
Like we used to
When you loved me
Or I thought you did
But I don’t tell you.
I leave you alone
You are busy
And it will hurt too much
If you answer in one word
Or not at all

I’d tell you it hurts
Not being able to text you
You would tell me why I was wrong
And, we would fight
And, you would win
So I make a list of chores such as switching out the summer clothes for the winter ones as we don’t get much of a midseason here anyway
But I still look at my phone
Like a slightly psycho teenage girl
Always hoping you might call
Even though you won’t
And I know pumpkin spice lattes are around the corner, although I don’t care for them,
But I can wear my boots at least.


©Shari Rusin

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