i will not call to attention
the fact that i am a fuck-up:
11:45
the bars are beginning to close
how the hell was i
supposed to know?
i spent weeks thinking
of how i could make this day
perfect
how i thought you were
perfect
and still do.
through your slumbery eyes
i saw a woman stolen in time:
you were always older than i was
despite what the calendar said.
i went from dreaming of perfection
to just trying not to make
you cry.
you don't deserve my vulgar words.
this poem is not nearly enough for you.
i am not nearly enough for you.
i will abandon my heightened
flowery language
just one more time
for you:
i love you
and i thank God (whoever he/she is)
that you are here
with me.
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