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There is a whirlwind whip of hesitation stuck sticky in the back of my mind,
like the start of a run in a favorite pair of stockings,
or a scratch on that vinyl 45 of Heart of Glass,
the one I bought on the other side of the Bay when we were still together.
I realized that I never went back to San Francisco after we split up,
and that the last time I was there it was the starting side of the 90’s.
How old does it make me sound if I ask “where does the time go?”

Pages and pages to read,
and too many shows on the television,
it does not quiet the restless shake in my limbs,
or the vibrato between deep inside,
humming, wishing, and wanting.
I make a laundry list of excuses for the lack,
and I think that in so many ways I am the lucky one.
I used to hold count the lies you told me,
swallowing then down like pain killers,
and then later,
on my second try with a different someone,
I held my breath until I saw what face would come to meet me.
There was no silver lining to a life like that,
no matter how the movies what to romanticize it.

Now the seas are calm.
I can breathe,
well mostly,
on the days my lungs allow it.
I can trust in some kind of forever,
that his hands will never stray,
and that a home can be solid,
set in cement and stained coffee cups.
I stood there in the city of secrets and sins and promised forever,
didn’t I?
I know that was me,
shaking and scared,
full of love.
But, my insides ache sometimes,
and in my dreams I ask the unspoken questions,
and some mornings I wake up with tears in my eyes.
These scratched surfaces they cause a temporary hiccup,
on nights like this when I sit here wishing for oceans,
and rain drops,
and up the coast drive-aways.

Have You Ever Seen the Rain? :: Creedence Clearwater Revival

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