Monday, September 7, 2009

"...and the point of it all, is I love you..."

I could be sleeping right now.
I could be washing my hair right now.
I could be watching the waves roll in to shore, drink in hand,
with no thought in the world but self-satisfaction,
but here I sit,
with thoughts of you
that are ultimately your fault.
I could be sleeping right now, next to a man.
Who isn't you.
I could be practicing my stroke
(because, I do have one)
or granting the "world famous."
I could be holding hands in the dim light of evening,
standing on my tip-toes in gleeful infatuation,
but instead I sit
glaring
at the hands
who've ignored writing
except for the other day,
when they had to write about you.
I could be studying.
Eating.
Driving.
Being.
I couldshould be with you.

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