He shuts the door
without pausing to look back
at me rumpled
in blonde curls spilling over a white pillow
and I lay there
listening to his feet leave
dissolving the love story I built between meeting his blue eyes in the sea
feeling his fingers on my toes
as he spoke directly into me
and his hand on my back as we ate a dinner
laced in yawns
full of touches that lead me to think that I’m the heart he’s been waiting for
a kiss that put me on my knees
and now I lay
feeling rather alone and empty
as the pink sunrise rises
unlacing the stories I thought we’d have
the places we’d go
I wonder if any woman’s heart is able to refrain from giving them too much credit to soon
I wonder if I will ever be able to meet a man
without a feverish romantic curiosity
if he’s my man
my partner
my mountain
perhaps this is a skill I just don’t have
It’s fine to give them all my heart
until I feel a little tired of giving it to them.