The Poetree. Poems by Lindsay Lewis
We tossed around the word
the last time we met
our life an egg and spoon race
against the clock
Don’t fall for me, you said.
Don’t project, I replied
knowing we’d passed the expiration date.
I could conjugate you all night
change your endings to make them agree.
At 1 a.m, I rise, boil two eggs, smile wryly
yearning to spoon you
and later, when I close my eyes in bed
the side I let you take that my husband never shared
you are with me
your unfathomable sky fills my mind
in a place that almost exists
We could almost ourselves to death
but my darling, remember this:
Love is not a grey sock you can just
or take off.