If she loves you
I hope she loves you well—
well enough to clean out the attic
you use as a heart
and dust off the mirror
you use as a mind.
(Remind me: What was
the last original
thing you said?)
I hope she can bring you
warmth when you need it
(and not freeze from the
cold of your back turned to her
in a January night's argument).
May she fill you with a love so true
your empty soul won't rattle
with the hollowness I heard
when, always, in answer to
my silly "I love you"
you would say "Me too" while
avoiding The Words themselves.
Like a kid with fingers crossed
behind his back, you fell through
on all your promises while feeling fine.
I hope she'll better than I did;
I doubt it.
first published in Cosmopolitan, 1986