same old
time-worn
streaming curtains.
dispersing like memory,
homing in on me.
in on us.
same old white room.
night-orphaned.
same old new year's
eve of moving through
night-orphaned
uncharted sheets, but
the world wasn't round
not then, not when
you aren't where you are
supposed to be.
and i fall down, down
the edge of the world.
spill on a floor gone cold.
it remembered warmth,
was it of you?
but it's the same old,
same old, same old
story of every
awakening.
i tell you my truth:
this is not the morning after.
i knew with all my heart.
you stayed.
this is not the book i wrote.
my heroine never dissolved into
non-existence mid-story.
or anytime else.
she stayed. you stayed.
you stayed you stayed you stayed
this is not the epicenter
of the -
you were not the earthquake
that shook my -
this is not my world
not without you.
2012.nov.23
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