PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm walking around
in my underwear,
fuzzy slippers,
and that necklace
you've never seen me without.
And I'm dancing in sheer

panties with the windows open
(which you would have bitched about)
so the sun can bend down
to kiss the fake hardwood floors
and my forehead

that is pressed
to hands
that should be yours.
My tea is ready.
Careful, don't spill.
Don't forget the sugar-sand

that took your truck

captive that time
we were just trying
to find our place in the world.
Yesterday,  I passed you
just to see

if you knew my face;
and I think that you do
because your lip twitched
and your hands
balled into fists
as you passed my new beau-

tiful girlfriend.
(oh come now,
like you couldn't see that coming)
she was wearing that dress
I love so much
and my, how

we laughed
as you glared
and her hand grabbed
my ass
as we passed
and you stared

open mouthed
at what once was yours being
manhandled
by a woman
in 4 inch heels
that would have no problem seeing

right over your head
(you are short after all)
and into your skull
to confirm the lack of brains
she suspected was lost
that day you took that terrible fall

down memory lane
with that ex-girl-
toy of yours
and were caught
with your pants down
in a rather complex

predicament
(as you put it
while trying unsuccessfully to explain)
involving you,
her,
and just a little bit?

Maybe that's too much information
for just one little tale
that ends how it starts
on a very fine day
with sunshine
and her pale

hand on my hip
as I greeted you
pleasantly
with just a touch of a smile
that might have reached my eyesa

and was long overdue

because some things
will always stay the same
minus you. And you thought I didn't know
that yesterday you cried
because you realized
I still remember your name.