I wrote a poem about a
"semi-broken heart"
but ****, it really
broke this time.

I guess I was expecting
my Prince Charming to
sweep me up in his arms,
not tell me there's another
Princess.

I will never smell Basil again
without remembering
how you taught me to
try new things.

I will never read that book
you always tell me to read,
because I do not want to
be reminded of your
tragically similar brain.

I will send you those cuff links
and accept that I will never
give them to you in person.

It feels so good to feel.

One of my favorite
pastimes back when
Spring was Spring,
and not a death sentence
of epic proportions,
was tying a piece of string
to a Junebug's leg.
The hardest part was getting
the restless creature to lie on
its back long enough to
slide the miniature noose
around him in such a way
that when you let go
he would fly around
like Bonnie Blue Butler's
show pony as far as you
allowed his string to take him.

I feel like a Junebug lately.
The process of looping that noose
around my leg has left me
weary and ready for a rest.
My ankle has third degree rope burns
and my wings are getting tired
of flying in exhausting circles.
The child at the end of my rope
is ignorantly unaware of her
imprisonment of my principles.
Or perhaps she knows what she's
been doing all along
and just doesn't have
the heart, guts or brains
to cut the string and let me fly
like the shiny little
Junebug I was born to be.

Do you remember our first kiss?
I try to forget it because
my ticker starts to fracture
right in the middle,
where all my love
comes from,
when I remember how you
tasted like beer and new things.
I closed my eyes out of respect.
The couple next to us
was making out
and you made the
most handsome face
I've ever seen.
Good-willed determination.
You caught me off-guard,
but when my eyelids shut
I saw a Fourth of July grand finale.
They were red and white.
The music was loud and so was
the pulse in my ears.
That was the last night I
hurt myself anymore.
You made me love you and
-most importantly-
myself with that most perfect
and drunk
first kiss.

Remember that time
at the beach.
You were the first one
with your clothes off.
I think you were already
a little drunk
but you would have
stripped down
regardless.
You never had anything to hide.

Because of you
I had the strength to stand
bare-breasted and unafraid
to all of the Atlantic Ocean
and sing about sunshine and having life.
You gave a number of people
the courage to take their shells off that night.
A bunch of naked hippies on the beach
like a flock of seagulls with a little
more heart.
We thought we could change
the world back then,
and I guess we still can.

I guess this means its over.
I told you not to contact me
if you were haply and happily seeing someone else.
I haven't heard from you,
so I guess you are making a go of it
wherever you are in that big District.

Does she know your affinity for public restrooms?
Does she love your little hands like I did?
(Maybe mine are just big?)
Do you call her darlin' when you hang up the phone
and does her stomach fall out of her bottom
when she catches even the slightest glimpse of you
in that dashing tuxedo you're so proud of?

I still have your cuff links.
Those stupid pieces of silver mock me on my bookshelf
next to the copy of your favorite book I still can't
bear to pick up and read.
You said to read it to understand you, but I don't know if I want to-
understand you or read it, that is.
You told me to return them when I was ready.
I'm ready, but you're nowhere to be found.
What happens now?
I'm convinced you're the one I'm supposed to
put all of my money on, and
You've always been a betting man.

Sitting at the counter waiting for my cheeseburger and fries, I noticed her.
It was the first time I felt like really eating a cheeseburger and fries
Since you looked me square in the face
And told me:
You didn't love me anymore.

She is beautiful, I'll give her that
But she's sitting at a table full of men
Burly men, not your kind.
What did she see in you?
What did I see in you?

What was her name?
Surely I remember that.
It was this name who caused the break up heard round the neighborhood.
She with her long, sun kissed-hair
(mine is short and black)
And her skin is bronze like a native Brazilian  
(I am translucent, save for my many freckles)

Come on, you know it.
But then my food came.
And then it didn't matter anymore.