Chapter Text
I have never been able to leave when it
matters—
—not you; not you, and never this place.
I stood dying in place my whole life,
stood behind you for all these years
(I) stood behind the cracked counter in that smoky bar
catching tips and come-ons
(I) stood behind the weathered, grey drying line full of your
undershirts and my dust rags
and then when I sprinted after you,
all the while thinking I was leading in this race of
circular logic,
I learned that our years contained only me,
and that you
have always stood outside them, outside us.
So now here you are, falling
away from me again.
I falter, stand staring at your finely-
chiselled name,
And I want to ask you for the years
back, but I don’t know how.