Poetry

You’re Welcome

When it’s cold like this
and I can see my breath
there is no denying
that I am alive
but I keep wanting to
hold it in
till it hurts
because
that makes sense to me.

I tried to avoid the St. Paul skyline
tried to ignore my heart beating
the seconds,
the distance,
tried to think
of
what not to say
how
not to look…
a life so long, somehow too short
a love so big – still too small

When I see you
I
miss
me.

I didn’t spit in your coffee.
You’re welcome.

2008

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