at the bookstore
we sat in wide, orange armchairs
by the tall windows
she chose a book from the shelf
for me to write about
Whitney Houston–
as written by Whitney’s sister
I think it was by her sister
who knows..
I didn’t feel much of anything
didn’t even open it
but, I do like that one song
the one from the movie
It’s honest
pain and love, gives me chills
I wrote anyway
not feeling like I had the right
somewhere in my words
a melancholy showed
which often follows me around
tugging at my sleeve frays
on gray days like this
we talked of feelings
or lack thereof
over melancholy words
our damned phones
pinging away
with distraction
from another world

as she pulls away
I miss her, instantly
every time
and I stay behind
for a short while
hoping she might return
but another world
is calling
on the phone

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I've come to write.

14 thoughts on “bookstore”

  1. I just love your ability to communicate detail in a seamless way, so it’s not at all mannered. You create a spiky kind of completeness which isn’t jarring at all. You’re really so good at what you do.

    1. Thank you again, Mils. This older piece is really just talking. Nothing fancy, and no damned pointy-head poetry this time. I think you’re on to something with the word ‘mannered’. I’ll have to be more conscious of that in my writing and in what I read. I think I know what you mean.

  2. And IIIIIII will alwaysssss love youuuuu…… such a great song the way she belted it, eh? I played it for my ex when I was leaving him… so sad. This was years ago. I don’t really still love him though. I guess time really changes things in the end, but it sounds good at the time! 🙂

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