This time, I have to be honest:
It has been two years since….
Pretty brown eyes
a long, carpeted hallway
the Jefferson Monument
and a balcony, balmy
with drops of Virginia rain.
Why haven’t you left?
Those memories hold on with your tenacity,
to nights that I can’t sleep…
to words that I can’t say.
No, I don’t want you here,
just the gossamer.
You know you ain’t shit,
and yet you continue to be.
Your lessons still teach
and my musings are still real: Miss Cah-lee, I’m going to the mo-tel.
Home girl, I wish I was, too.
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